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Poem – Message

It’s like God
stops you on the street
to hand you a message
and your hands are full
and your pockets are full
and you are late
to a doctor’s appointment.

But it is God
so you want to take the message
so you put down your plastic sacks
because you went shopping
on the way to the doctor’s office
and the lines were long
and that is why you are late

and now your hands are free
but your coat is hard to unbutton
and you want to unbutton it
because you want to put the message
in the
inner pocket
of the coat
so it will be safe
and not get smudged
or lost.

I’d rather not
be like this.

I’d rather be checking in
all the time,
saying
Here I am God.
Do you have any messages
for me?
All the time
not just accidentally
not leaving it so God
has to tackle me
or bump
into me
on the street
for me to
stop
long enough to give God my time.

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