believe in god, I mean
really believe, the way
you believe in the person
sitting next to you on the bus
so when he shifts positions
or spreads his knees
for a backpack you lean
a little to the side
to make room for this
stranger who inserts himself
uninvited into your life,
rules demand
you accommodate him,
let this new presence
change you, how
the moon pushes and pulls
the seas as it shoves
across the horizon
and then, when the stranger
gets up before you do,
there’s still some warmth
lingering on the seat,
something you could touch
if you wanted to, something
to prove it happened.
What if We Could
