Where no-one seeks

I saw God in the dancing dapple of the sidewalk poplar.

 

In the bone-warming heat of day,

Wafted cool by a considerate breeze,

Branch and leaf cast jiggling patterns:

Shimmering shuddering shaking shapes

Of light more light less light

dark more dark less dark…

Breath-breaching,

Step-stalling,

Here holy hidden

In such an underfoot scene.

 

An I-don’t-mind-if-you-tread-on-me God,

Below-your-gaze, out-of-sight-out-of-mind God,

Epiphany-God, who hides where the garbage bags lie;

Where pigeons bob and peck and glimmer pinkpurplegreen-grey,

Where city dogs sniff and pee.

Where no-one seeks,

But occasionally someone finds.

May 2018

@2018 by Anna Bosatta