In Search of an Ordinary God
Above all I want to taste
Christ baked in the wafer.
I want to approach the altar
without genuflection or holy
water. I want to burrow
in the empty space of scripture.
If I could still my desperate
and swaying body, if I could
shut my eyes to the world I love,
if I could mute my breath
long enough, would I hear God
crunching celery sticks? Would I
notice her braiding beads
into my hair for her daily rosary?
Would I find her in lemons
and cancer cells and crack
babies, among dead birds,
delphiniums, and human waste?
Would I recognize her sliding
between the constellations to sprinkle
the baneberry with lustral dust?
(First published in North American Review)
