Atheist Analogies

Like never reading the love letters I wrote you

Words scattered all around

Like never seeing how

I let the blazing suns of a thousand remote

Solar systems blink your name

Like ignoring the food on your plate

The clothes neatly folded and pressed

The hands that kept you there

Breathing in, breathing out, wanton flowers

The messages painted on the billboard of the world

Child come home,

Rain come down

I’ll never stop looking

Across this field for you

The Imaginary Conversation

He is gone now

Gone to me, anyway

But I think of the things I would ask him if he were still here–

Would persistent nausea be enough? Or swarms of stinging insects? How about dead bodies? Or all the stubbed toes and fingers gone unmended

What if this post-modernist hell of your own invention were not unbearable heat, agony and utter despair

Forever/

Just

… an airless room, waiting for a love which never comes

All your regrets all your missed chances

To cry like a baby

Wail for a Savior

Weep at his feet, hair in hand, perfume spent

Shaken finally by what you

Would have been without Him