I believe in God because...

I believe in God because of laughter

Because of crazy friends

Brilliant sunsets

Freaky birds

Weird fish

Music

and

me

A Million Angels

Every day they come into my life-
A glance, a vision, a sight, and then gone.
Never again in all my time will I see that face.
They come into our worlds in some strange ways.
Some happy, some harried, some blank, some cold.
Some thinkers, some distant, some rich, some old.
Some angry, some playful, some dreaming unaware,
On the street, the bus or a window somewhere.
They appear and I see them, and they maybe me.
Fleetingly, and then die away, never again to be.
And as night falls, for these angels I pray,
In thanks, for having made my day.

The greatest show

An urgency lingered in the cold evening air,
A nervous hastiness, a winged rush of care.
It was to be the greatest heavenly show,
The preparations had begun aeons ago.
 
Birthed in the depths of the galaxies,
The tune strung across time's fantasies.
Composed on the faith and hope of prophets,
With harp, lyre, cymbals, voice and trumpets.
 
Sopranos tuned to the songs of the breeze,
Altos flowed with the wind in the trees.
With the rivers' rise and flow the Tenors sing,
The Bass from heaven's depth a beat they bring.
 
Which celestial prince will with them rejoice?
Which glorious palace will echo their voice?
The galactic sea was to be present in full glory,
With blasts of lightning and thunder roaring.
 
But, they were told to sing for ordinary shepherds,
And a stable with animals and people unheard.
What? A shriek, a murmur, an angelic grumble,  
Is this why we really took all the trouble?
 
But when the clouds finally parted,
Over Bethlehem their doubts departed.
The most magnificent star blazed in the skies,
With the dance of a billion fireflies.
 
The great lights danced, the angels sang,
With true heart while celestial bells rang.
That day life birthed again to lie in a tiny cradle,
And the past and future met in that lowly stable.
 
And just as quickly, the night was silent again,
Mary's voice gently echoed the angels’ strain.
The promise foretold, redeemed to that mother,
Strange, her tiny son clutches a small feather.
 
A quill that would resurrect the Word,
That in the beginning formed the world.
And carved out reason and wrath,

And life's mystical eternity's path. 

Good heavens

 

Good heavens

For the one in the cold, a blanket is heaven.

For one who is hungry, a meal is heaven.

For the grieving, a comforting shoulder is heaven.

For the lonely, a listening ear is heaven.

So tell, what do you want in your good heaven?