a sign beside the highway reads:

SAY THIS:
JESUS FORGIVE MY SINS
SAVE MY SOUL

and I am sad.
What good is regurgitation?
What bloom has ever opened
to shame instead of light?
Why can it not, instead, instruct us to:

BEHOLD

the miracle of pencil-thin pines
reaching skyward with straight backs,
arms raised, dropping
strange, wonderful seeds
to the grass below.

WATCH

the sun appear,
a bright fish between clouds
that bunch and roll, churning
like crests of waves in a stark sea
of heavenly blue.

LET YOUR SOUL BE MOVED

first, and maybe you will see
that love made all of this
and you, too. Even if you don’t
believe it, when the rain falls,
it still washes over you.