When I wasn't too busy, I used to
try my hand at communing with God -
I'm not too embarrassed to admit it.
Though I never quite knew how to do it,
I did my best; just to see
if anything would come of it
or if anything was required of me,
wondering how I would ever know if it was.
When I had nothing better to do,
nothing else going on, I would reach out
to the Creator of the universe. Little ol' me.
And, of course, when troubles arose
I was always right there tugging at His coat.
One day, down a lonely path, through a flurry of leaves,
I saw Him ahead of me, plainly beckoning,
inviting me to His house for tea.
If you're not too busy, He said.
If you've nothing better to do.
Tears, held back a lifetime,
wet my cheeks, the sleeves of my coat -
cleansing rivers coming from the broken,
untapped reservoir within my chest.
O child of God, wherever fate takes you
never forget the mercy of the Lord of Mercy.