“Do I believe,” you ask,
since I no longer go to church
I don’t know how to answer that –
I only know I didn’t find what I was looking for inside those earthen walls
but out here in the wilderness,
I found
I found paradise in a little taupe house on a corner,
felt the radiating warmth of its promise snuggled beneath homemade quilts made of old khaki pants,
saw it in the orange speckles of hope in eyes that made real things for which I’d only ever hoped
I found holy land in an ornery sense of humor and two mismatched legs,
in arms which never let go, no matter how hard I pushed
we built our own sanctuary,
worshipping our own way,
turning needless guilt and regret into fire between gray cottony sheets and sacrificing ourselves to one another
I found belonging in two sets of tiny eyes looking up at us, looking to us,
in bouncy blond curls and baby teeth and skinned knees that needed kisses
I found community in silent waves and borrowed eggs and butter,
in snow blowing driveways,
in last minute cook outs, carrying Tupperware from house to house
I found connectedness in making eye contact and in genuine smiles,
in doors being held and tires being changed,
in the gifting of time, but receiving much more in return,
something so pure and true, it can’t possibly be measured by the counting of beads or the contents of envelopes
so don’t ask me if I believe in something bigger than myself –
of course I do
heaven is everywhere I look
-image via Tumblr; older poem reworked for reading at open mic tonight
