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The wind of God…

…moved over the face of the waters. And in reading this, 
the awareness that, more than once, 
God has turned my head in his direction, 
yet I haven’t seen the gesture for what it is. 

The world charges and is charged with a white-hot flame. 
I might turn away, but each morning my head is turned for me 
toward a crow’s flight, squirrel passage, or a person 
with whom I share an ever-present reaching toward.
I let myself be turned sometimes. Sometimes 
I get into my car and drive away.

Today I picture God’s hand cupped atop my head--
a quiet turning and then receding. 
We are ‘fine’ with each other. This god has all the time in the world.