The journey and the star

God is not some bearded dude on a throne up in the sky,
or some bright distant star, so far away.
And even though it's beautiful,
God never was that white man in the moon.

God's here in me, and there in you,
and filling all that space that's in between.
God is the path from here to there,
and all the love and loss along the way,

'cuz God's the journey and the star,
and ALL those old guys on their thrones,
all the plants, all the animals; both the sun and the moon --
God's everything that happens,
all the people good and bad --
God is even this sad woman
with her bags and dirty blanket,
reddened fingers holding cigarettes
as she sits below the bridge
with her arms around her knees
wailing her wordless cry of pain
at each car that passes by:
her cry is ours; her pain is ours;
her journey's ours -- can you feel it?
If you stop for just a moment, set aside your texts and emails,
and breathe,
and listen,
you'll hear her cry -- and God's --
echo softly in the cavern of your heart.