HOLY QUEST

He says, “I have looked for God
or at least for signs of a holy presence
but I haven’t found any yet.”
She says, “How would you know
if you saw God, in a church
or in the checkout line at the grocers?”
He says, “That’s a good question, I suppose
he’d look something like me, but
there would be this holiness,
a presence that no one else
in the pews or store could even
hope to imitate, something just Godly.”
“What if God is a she,” she says,
“or looks like the cat I had as a child?
Being made in God’s image can’t be taken
all that literally, you know, after all
is God an overweight white male wearing coveralls
and driving a tractor, or Japanese,
or Somali, or Indian, though that one worked
for Buddha despite how the Chinese
and Japanese choose to draw him.”
He frowned, taking it all in, then said,
“So maybe, I’ll just stop looking.”
“And just maybe that way
you may find God,” she smiled.

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