When I visualize God, I picture…
a woman sweeping her house clean in search of some old treasure;
a man climbing on a train to seek a new world;
the whiskers of roots on that tomato seed I’m trying to germinate;
the broken shards of clay from a pot that stayed too long outside in winter;
a child sighing with contentment at his mother’s breast;
the agony in a man’s face after seeing his daughter felled by some canister that fell from the sky;
the awe the tourists had over that beautiful bowl the man was serving them with, that bowl which was that canister that was beaten, beaten and beaten in silent anguish until it no longer resembled the weapon that killed his daughter but is now a beautiful object that offers food and sustenance.