God among the garbage

Late afternoon and the sun

Breaks through the clouds

Ending the drone of a day long rain,

Coaxing me to stir from the warm

Enveloping depression and

Spiking electric pain of anxious worry

And out to the warm sun with my dog.

Headed for the bare brown woods

Where, hemmed in on all sides

By the sweet deafening crescendo

Of the early spring frogs

And the peace of the warm spring breeze

Stoking my cheek

Crawling things stir to life

Among the breeze-blown leaves at my feet.

Here along the banks to the sweet, earthy pool

I bid bad choices to go

And drop them in the murky water

With hope to never to see them again.

But somewhere between there

And the way back

I take them up again

As I settle in for a smoke

Between my rotting teeth

Near the garbage cans and blowing papers

On the hard concrete

Of the nearby gas station.

Still all this time,

Sitting in the quiet, close, sun-bleached room

And the soft enveloping peace of the spring pond

Among the concrete and waste of the garbage cans

Against the swirling plume of nicotine medication

That coaxes me from the darker places

Is God

Walking beside me,

Hovering just out of reach

Bidding me to stir

To try just once more,

To make one right step.

Between the shock of the grinding pain

And the peace of the life around me

He will still, this day, manage to see me through

In spite of this frail human skin

And this fragile human hope.