Electric Don Giovanni

Every time I have felt God the most

It has hurt the most

The certitude rises, faith creeps in like a mist-tide

Soaking the floorboards to the nostrils

That there is an interconnection

Between the potential energy one wields to better the universe

Through love

Of partner, of neighbor, of progeny, of stranger

Through a foundation of feeling God

In all things

The approach is so wonderful

The indulgence in the apertures is heaven

The drink of the slow miraculous imbibe

The moments of eyes staring back in such hues of spirit

To taste that is like electric faith surging in my transitory atoms

Nuclei flaring divine that no matter the path

All is forgiven and dancing like Mozart’s Don Giovanni

That man could explode and return to the whole exalted in the moment

God is right there breathing into chest

Filling lungs with all there is in a circular breath

Blood with the everything, not limited to the wonder of the other

But that the silence became an opera and I could hear the Lord

And so in the pain of that voice retiring into the mires of ambivalence

The bogs of my words falling mute like the swoop of grass blades

Wanting to be more to a foot

Knowing my voice has no God in it

My pages contained no twinge of the divine to prompt reservation

To assuage the whim of a second guess

I was a parcel of nothingness and if there is a God

Where do others see God in me?

Wanting to be a vessel; these words that observe the hopes, dreams, love, and fear

Of those crossing my path would somehow root

Wanting to be more than a drifting tumbled seed failing to locate wetted soil

Praying God to guide me to my lighting-rod garden

Somehow, someway, remembering that surge, hoping a damn bit of it was real