God keeps changing the subject
I’ve been asking why this week.
These two poems arrived within a day of each other.
Spoiler: I still don’t have the answer!
a stranger
showed up
to dinner
in my dream
.
wearing
a floral waistcoat
smelling faintly
of eucalyptus
.
greeted
the magpies
by name
admired
the lemon tree
outside my window
.
i can’t explain
how i knew
but i did
it was god
.
i asked
why people die
why hearts break
why children
lose their fathers
why some prayers
echo back
unanswered
.
god listened
without interrupting
then looked up
at a pair of cockatoos
causing mischief
in the gum trees
.
laughed
the kind of laugh
hidden deep
in river bellies
and the hearts
of old forests
.
then changed
the subject
and raised a glass
to sunsets
moonrise
wildflowers
and tea
.
to old friends
lovers
and to dogs
who greet you
as though
you have returned
from war
.
i waited
for the answer
it never came
or maybe
it had been there
all along
maybe
there will never be a day
when all the pieces
finally fit
.
maybe
some questions
are meant to remain
beautifully unanswered
.
maybe
one day
i will stop
asking
why this happened
to me
and instead
focus on
what now?
.
what beauty
still wants
my attention?
.
what love
still longs
to move
through these hands?
.
what wild dream
has been waiting
patiently
for me
to believe
it’s not too late
to dream it?
.
maybe
a meaningful life
was never measured
by how closely
it followed
the original plan
but by how often
we choose
wonder
over certainty
love
over fear
presence
over perfection
.
and when
my own life
draws to its close
i hope
i am able
to say
i trusted
enough
to keep
my heart
open
even when
i didn’t understand
.
that i loved
with everything
i had
.
and in the end
that was enough
Sarah, the floral waistcoat, eucalyptus, magpies, lemon tree, cockatoos in the gum trees, and dogs greeting us as though we have returned from war make God’s silence feel strangely present, never empty. I was moved by the way the unanswered “why” gives way to “what now?” with no cheap resolution, only attention: sunsets, moonrise, wildflowers, tea, old friends, lovers, and the love still waiting to move through your hands. The poem honors the ache of death, heartbreak, lost fathers, and prayers that echo back unanswered while refusing to make certainty the measure of a meaningful life. Grateful for the way you let wonder answer without explaining, and for the final hope that an open heart, loving with everything it had, can be enough.
Wow, so filled with raw honesty, vulnerability, curiosity, color, kindness, compassion, realness…a rarity in these words.