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Divine Intervention


I was supposed to die. 
More than once.
In a car, driving too fast
or erratically.

It is my race car driver foot.
And my cavalier attitude.
My impatience and my devils-may-care-self.
I know this, and yet still I crash up cars.

Expecting to die.
Wishing to die?
Feeling disappointed I have not been able to die?
It is curious. But sometimes I walk away, terribly disappointed.

My cars get severely injured, and yet here I am.
In one piece, not a broken neck, a broken arm or a broken foot.
Once when I was flying through the air I expected to land on a glass T-top roof.
I knew I was a goner.

But then from the bowels of my soul
I heard my voice cry out “God, help me!”
And that car flipped one hundred and eighty degrees.
I landed with a WHOMP in a snowdrift, wheels down.

The guy who walked sixty feet in four-foot deep snow 
Asked me “how I did it”.
He said he worked in a pit crew at the Indy 500 once upon a time.
He had never seen anything like it.
I have never seen anything like it either, and yet, it happened to me.



Written 12-27-2021
Contest: Divine Intervention
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke

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