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Letter to God

 

You cannot be going East this morning

meeting sunrise with a green rag—

 

cannot be this late

would have to be already above the plain

your machete making love to light

 

You’d have to have droned your way

into headlines

 

You cannot have been Charlie

would have to be yourself

no safety in protest of millions

 

You cannot be any but me

fearing that speech is not free

and that life is a good price

 

In this drama

I find myself playing you—

the mask, chorus and spectators

 

I find myself finding myself

your messenger of light with dark skin

inviting siblings of sapphire

to the meeting of Moses with the Mount

 

 

You could not have slept last night

your eyes rubies robbed of gold

 

You could not have been listening

to the news

or, could you?

 

After all, you are everywhere

even on the throne you abdicated

 

You cannot be going West this morning

 

would have to have stepped

between the sun and the moon

stretched your arms to both sides

and reconciled beauties

 

You’d have to have looked human

assumed gender, age and race

You’d have to have fallen from yourself

down among us

and glad I am you haven’t

 

Let blood flow where it should

in the veins, to the heart and back

 

Pick another colour

to paint your palette

 

With all checkpoints

and suicide searches

with your wrong ID

 

you cannot be going home

this morning