Open kind of asking

I never know where God will turn up next.

When I learned

I might be able to have some say

In my dreams,

I might be able to wish for God

To come to me at night,

Show me what I needed to know

If I asked.

I asked once.

Yes, o.k.,

It was an open-ended kind of asking,

And He came.

I stopped asking.

He started to come

Anyway,

Slipped in around the edges,

Came in through the open window.

He didn*t stick to dreams at night.

He didn*t honor the contract

I thought we had

Of sleep,

Only the hours

Of sleep.

He came and comes

Through the neighbor

Walking the dog,

The woman on the train.

He grew up

Through the clematis vine

On the front pillar.

Then he found the vine

In the back yard.

I thought it had died.

No.

A hundred thousand times

No.

Now I never know

Where He will turn up next.