What if the universe was actually 

Trying to get your attention?

You know, metonymically speaking,

Where “the universe” is a beat-up van

Driven by a pretty 

unassuming God

And you were one of those garden variety types

unswervingly ignoring

all the signs:

Birds singing

Lovely sunsets

Oddball prophets

Always making the assumption 

Who would want to get in that old thing?

Mistaking stellar lights for cosmic accidents

And personal missives for junk mail screeds

thereby missing

The extraordinary, temporal

Vehicle for undying love

As it slowly passed you by.