I See Him in the Line at the Water Fountain

When I got down to writing a poem about God
Well, I didn’t know what to say.
He’s magnificent.

amazing.

fantastic.

wonderful.

wow.
But those man-made words are not just lacking.
They’re inconsequential.

How do you describe a glimpse of The Divine?

I see the

edge of a blade of grass throwing back the sun

and a
father storming through the trees with his boy on his shoulders
roaring like the wind with laughter
and the boy’s baseball cap fall to the ground
and him try to get the father’s attention
but the father’s hooting too loudly
so the boy pulls at his hair and points
and the two go diving after it as a breeze picks it up

the icecream vendor is reading a paper.
Yesterday’s.

and what looks like a trio of triplets
are begging their mom for orange dreamsicles and chocolate fudge pops
but she’s stubbornly refusing
and promising cookies when they get home

the park fountain doesn’t have pennies anymore
the rumour is that late one night a drunk man
collected all of them so that he’d have enough
to pay the bus fare
so now there’s just gum that clogs the drain in there

an old man who jogs every day
is taking a break on a graffitied bench
whenever someone comes to sit beside him
he takes out his dentures and starts polishing them
and they soon leave

a different old man walks his dog,
which is the friendliest Rottweiler you’ll ever meet,
rolling on his back to have his belly rubbed
by the little kids who run up to him
yelling “Curtis! Curtis!”

a toddler is coaxed by his older brother down a slide

You don’t describe The Divine.
You see it.
You believe it.

This is love.
This is life.
This is God.