the kingdom of god will not be realized
by those new blue shoes or that album or the glittery skirt i saw or the pills or the liquor or even my car with the racing stripes. it might be under her sleepy eyelids though, or his leg tossed over my lap. it might be in that tiny baby fist. it might. but you’re lost if you think it’s in 12 hour office days exhausted nights early mornings it’s not in your sadness or even your rage. the kingdom of god will not be realized by prolonging our own suffering. open your hand. find your own genius there in your palm. take a walk in the dim and notice the stars. then fight harder.
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