God casts snow to cover the fact 
we are being followed or led.

The water I pour into a pitcher has 
every word God has ever spoken 
that we never hear.

A sleeping village knows 
loneliness exists. Its song returns
to the stars as one door opens.
That music could break your glass heart. 

God keeps humming a nameless tune, 
while folding the sky at nighttime.

The world changes. It brushes against us.

God whispers,
Notice what’s happening.