Uncle Bob's Words

Words, poetry, stuff like that

I have this occasional vision of god

I have this occasional vision of god:

A woman of a certain age,

With a large feather boa

Of a changeable color (to suit the mood).

Kindly but benignly imperious.

Solid, certain, seeing all but

Rather above it all, naturally.

(Someone else carries the cash and cards)

She hears your prayers but moves steadily along

Hearing more and, if a chorus,

She waves her gloved hand and you die,

Or the world changes.  Maybe it’s better.

Understand, what this woman doesn’t know is not worth

Knowing, it’s merely heat emitted by a flaring torch.

Not the real event, just a byproduct.

Men may manipulate the heat, but the light moves ahead.

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