At the very edge of hearing,
at that fine line
between what is in and out of reach,
in the wondering moment
where a fragrance is apprehended
when you gaze intently
and in the shift between seeing nothing
and seeing something (who knows what),
Not with the heart-warming
spirit-stirring gush of love.
Not with the soul-rushing
courage-producing charge of justice.
Not with the mind-clearing
clarion-bell call to eternal truth.
None of these today.
Only God in the glimpses,
seeping into the world,
a hundred million tiny hairline cracks
all around us, in us, through us.
The world is riddled with God
and all creation answers.