Thoughts. Ideas. Scribbles.

Come On God

The best place to think about things is in a cafe. Although I’m having to cut back on my all too frequent pit-stops because of the cost – everything is more expensive nowadays – and my expanding waistline. Despite that I stopped a few days ago for a cuppa. And I jotted this poem down.

Come on God

So, come on God 
where are you? Reveal yourself
as I sit here, in this café chomping 
cold tea and sticky toffee

You’ll say you wear
the faces of the people and the kids
I see –

you’re already here
you’ll say
in the mother with the stripy top
and the old woman rushing to the toilets
and the redhead in her sleeveless
and the men with walkers
particularly the one whose face 
has lost its life.

You’ll say
it’s in reaching out to these
that I’ll find you.

So, come on God,
show me again
how suffering should be done 
how it’s not so bad
when the café is full 
of others
trying to keep a tight hold on life,
like me,
despite everything.

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