Belief

“You miss out on a lot of things,” he said to me,

“Listening to what others say,

Instead of experiencing me, for yourself.”

I had heard many stories about him,

What a dangerous no-good, bum he was,

How terrible he smelled, and what kind of things

He went around with in his teeth.

And here he was,talking to me

On the street corner.

“Why don’t you take a walk with me now?”he said,

“And I will tell you about God.”

But I ran away.

I’d also heard the things they said about me.

And I’d seen My Love listening.

He chose to believe them,

Even though he’d been with me, in person,

And they never had.

Still, somehow, he believed their lies,

And forsook me, his kind and loving friend.

I had been at church that day,

And heard them say

That God is Love.

They sang their hymns and praises to

The God above,

And postulated high theology,

Yet seemed to bend their knees to Satan,

And prostrated themselves to something 

Which they did not know.

“I want to know god for myself,” I thought.

I got up to go before the service ended,

Walked out to the corner, and saw the mystic bum again,

Wondering now, what he might really have

Between his teeth if he grinned.

“You may believe a lot of things,” he said,

“But you don’t know. Come, go with me,

And you will see, that those who believe,

And those who don’t, may be in the same sinking boat,

But those who don’t know? For them,

The possibilities are endless.”

And so I held my hand to him,

My offering to go his way,

And when I did, he smiled at me,

And his smile was clean and big,

And his teeth? They were white as snow.

-jenn