I have God on the soles of my feet. Jesus in the creases between my bent toes. Everywhere I step is some place they've already been.
This world is a massive machine. All the buttons are under their fingers.
Sometimes God appears in the frost on my fingers as I walk to buy things I can't afford to purchase. Or in the dirt of the gutter as I wait for the bus that is always late.
I say to Him why don't you help us. But he just shrugs and says he is. By allowing us the opportunity to save each other. It's up to us to take it.
Isn't that a cop out I dared to protest. He chuckled lightly and said. What good is the life I've given to each of you if it's not yours alone to live.