Where god Lives

...And there is god past the University Avenue sign.
There, in the far distance, breaking through the warm morning fog
cutting a white line at the edge of the world
-- giving light to the egret with the broken wing.

Will you listen to that lonely loon calling by the side of the dock?
Yes, I would much rather have faith and believe
It is a song of yearning hope that wakes me
-- not a mournful cry that I hear in my heart at all. 

There is god in the sound of the waves
coming to witness the laws of nature unfold
In the warmth of the sun penetrating my thin skin
while we ponder the twelve point measure and the meaning of time
-- that being the measure of the distance between here and there and then, of course.

…Just look at god now,
deep in the furrow of the brow of a young boy
peeking into the greatest treasure ever found
and stored in a handy sandwich bag:
a yellow maple leaf, three colorful stones, the most perfect and bestest feather ever
-- and the memory of a seashell thrown upon a lake shore by a man of long ago.
 ¡Ah! ¿Will you look at god now?
swimming in a full moon river on a steel blue lake
just for me...
for consolation

Yes, I can breathe in god now in the scent of this late summer night air
soaked with the promise of finality and filling me with anticipation
in the silence between heartbeats comforting my spirit
-- as I walk away from what I must with the rising of the next sun.