Again. Everyday.

Flat on my back I lay on the smaller of the pair of wooden discs harvested from the industrial trash, my legs kicked up upon the larger and elevated of the set. I watch the sky turn orange to blue to black with the glowing sliver of the moon hung there. I seek the vague throb of star lights burdened by the city’s shine. I let the cricket’s ongoing dialog roll over me with the rhythmic sounds of the trains undergirding and rumbling below. I try to smell the blend of life and city merged, hoping my young garden fruits. And I again wonder at human behaviors shrouded with the labels of of faith yet vacant of any evidence of a loving god. And I wonder at the many ways we wrap our faith (or claimed lack of) around us in ways unrelated to god but yet support our own actions in such a way that we can shuck any real personal responsibility. and sometimes i wonder, having witnessed behaviors claimed in faith, if we are not truly and simply animals. and then i realize that this is human frailty, my own and others, whispering in my ear and i crawl back under the wing of a loving god.


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