As God Slept

I found God asleep in my temple. His shovel lain over a mound of dirty skin. I never thought I'd see my maker yawn. His breath was cold, and yet the wind he was making scythed my face as if I were crumbling, in beautiful flames. It was if it were some sort of natural reaction. Like seeing a naked body for the first time. My skin flushed. Pink, and somehow fresh- like a child’s. He was wearing a 3 piece suit from the 1930’s Scat era. His jacket was his pillow. There was a small fire Smoldering beneath it. I felt an urge to wake him. To make sure that he didn't burn his face. Yet, I immediately felt ashamed to think that he didn't know it was there. That he didn't put it there. What am I thinking? He is God, after all. I sat down. Crossed my legs, like an Indian would at the ledge of a mountain, staring at the spirit inside the moon. I gazed, lovingly. In awe, and reverence. I watched the smoke enter his nostrils and wondered what the fire was for. I thought of all the reasons why I could see the smoke, but I couldn’t smell it. Maybe it was beyond my sense. Perhaps I was meant to only see it- because? ....Because? I just don’t know. I sat there for days. Just watching. I had forgotten to eat. To sleep. Water. All of it. All sources of energy. Of self-preservation. Protection. They had all been replaced. I was consumed by my God. And a fire I couldn't see. But the smoke... -James Kelley 2017