God is an equation.
waiting to be solved,
A complex algorithm of fantastic proportions and complexity.
God is a flower
bursting through the sidewalk crack, slipping to life through
the unexpected hardness.
God is the dust particles
floating in the morning sun
wafting up your nose-hairs and tickling you to sneeze- fits
before settling too regularly on the book shelves.
God is the soft footfall of shoes on dark wooden planks
as a legacy of family and friends stream in to rest a cherished life.
If a white bearded man in the sky is what you see, then so be it ,
perhaps that brings you solace.
But would it really be better as scintillating minds or brilliant logic, phenomenal artistry,
thoughtfulness, kindness, warmth, caring or generosity, even love?
All pales in the real essence,
simply words, mere concepts like this poem,
like a single sentence in an epic oeuvre larger than a galaxy.
It is all God, the phlegm hacked onto the ground,
Sewage leaking from the pipes
The nasty smoke garroting her lungs
Perhaps it is no more sexist to call out the beauty of a part to the whole
than it is for language itself to describe the divine.
You will never get more God than the rock in your shoe or the hangnail on your thumb.
All means all after all.
Here is a blasphemy: worship the tough things. The things you want to exclude.
God, God and more God.
The stubbed toe, earwax, yes, even war.
We desperately want to pick and choose.
To say this but not that.
We desperately want it to make sense to our mind
And there is infinite beauty in that failure.
Let your heart break again and again if you truly want to know.
You say you don’t believe in God.
I believe you.
Too often that word has been used misused in the name of power and horror
but in the end, I say, if you have participated in this world
if you believe in this computer, or the food you eat or that your own hands exist
then you have all the concrete evidence of God there will ever be.
Inspired by ah