I am looking for God in more places than I used to:
in uncertainties
under crusty dishes
behind slammed doors
on a dreaded phone call
during shaky confessions
in between the lines
I think he might be leaning against walls of thrift stores
or beside the plums in the produce aisle
What if he is waiting for me
to turn a corner
to widen my gaze
to expect him in an unexpected place
to realize he doesn’t follow the rules I’ve made