and making sacrifices
to our own fears!
afraid of death,
and so afraid to live,
we race maddened to the flame.
trying to conceive
an ideal, afraid
to see, to touch,
the reality before us!
god looks alot like
the people we’re bombing,
smells like the homeless man
in the alley,
weeps with the hungry
into an empty bowl!
you want to touch the sacred?
touch the stranger,
the orphaned child,
the addict and the prisoner…
the one you bury,
the ones you send to war.
take a deep breath,
you can smell the desire…
of the lover, the planter,
the poet, and the thief!
stop, and give god a ride,
even better, an ear!