Monday, September 20, 2010

Where Are You?

In the cool of the evenings God walks down my street and whispers
"Where are you?"

For a while I thought I could hide.
I thought I had disappeared.

My companion, my friends, could walk right through shadow me
on their way to the kitchen
for nothing more pressing than an apple to snack on.

I grew pale.

I practiced living all the questions inside me.
I shrugged them off when they didn’t fit.
They never did, not one.

Then, one evening at dusk I heard the question again,
"Where are you?"
and with it my pulse began to beat,
thin but steady.

I listened.
Eventually I answered – I'm still here.

In that moment I heard this in the spaces
between the heartbeats: Write.

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