I knocked on his door, he never fails to answer. Losing hope by the second I turned around, his mustang pulling in. I knocked on his door while he was up on the hill, as he says, whispering a soliloquy of my name, my spirit and my safety. Oh what divine mercy. If there’s a god he gave me the best person. I was in my early twenties on his porch,
crying on my dad like I was a little girl again, for a second I was home again.

I prayed to a god I don’t believe in for a sign that everything was going to be alright.

I stepped outside and he was there on the porch, I sat beside him in the midsummer heat, the evening sun setting behind the thick green trees.

We both gazed into the field and saw a doe chasing a coyote.
neither of us said anything for a moment.

He had never seen anything like it, he said, in living here for 30 years. My awareness sharpened, the warmth in my heart started to pulsate, suddenly I was drowning in light. My sign was right there in front of my eyes.

God was a goddess this entire time.