I think God is my mother.
the one who pulled me from her bones
and got me through the times
I broke my own.
god is the trees and the rivers
and the unknown and the unremarkable.
God is in my room right now,
in the splotches of
sun that litter the carpeted floor.
God is in my head,
in the light that hurts my eyes.
God is in the people who keep creating
and creating and creating.
art, children, homes, love poems.
god is in the eyes that produce tears
and heartspoken words.
God is in the aisles of a Walmart late at
night, in the flickering light by
the back near the fishing rods and tires.
God is in the stars, in the glances
at beautiful people we'll never see again.
God is in the monotone voice
of the teacher.
God is in the women set up
for a lonely life,
encouraged to stay lonely but be strong.
God is still in us, right?
cars pass by, and one will crash
eventually.
houses stand still, protecting the already
broken world from the private
darkness of family.
God is still a family, right?
God still touches every child forced
into this cycle of life.
do you feel the touch still,
fingerprints of heaven on your soul?
sometimes, i think god is still.
-V
YOU ARE READING
who i am and why i'm not (poetry)
PoetryI'll love you for history, through your death, through mine.
