S11 Poem by RIC BASTASA

and how do we know that God speaks to us?
invoke the beautiful garden
there will always be a gardener
even if you do not see the wind
but the rustling leaves can tell
that is God, appearing, manifesting
but i want him to use words, to utter
what i also utter, i want him, to speak my name
as a master shall call a servant at dawn

50 years i waited, and all i have are still metaphors
labyrinths, i want and pray
that God be literal, and candid and frank and
straightforward, as one friend would call me

hey Ric, what's up? did you give bread to the hungry?
did you visit those who are in prison?
did you check if justice is done?
did you care for the poor and the oppressed?

could be in one dinner when he sits with me
under the light of the fluorescent lamp
nothing about my imagination that he speaks through my wife
or through a visitor or through an event
or through an accident that did not happen
nothing like that, and in this case to be frank with you

God has not spoken yet.