The Day You Came

The first day God came face to face. Spring, in front of the tree That had forgotten roots and leaves. The slender note of complaint Made to its friends By the cloud that got lost. The goddess’ voice Unheard by any but water. The flower garden In front of which Grass grew with abandon. The darkened house, Floor smeared with cow dung. A cluster of moments Of butterflies cavorting in the rain. The playhouse Made of the wings of fireflies and moths. The seaside Where camels enjoy the breeze. The forgotten oyster The fry left Under the sand. The praying hands Of date palms Which looked upon earth from above. The wedding night Inside the elephant shelter Where ants frolic. A pinch of beaten rice, Cooked, using only the twigs the pigeons brought. The anthology of words Read and re-read In a hand-written letter. The translation of the moment God couldn’t quite get. What could it have been? Covered daughter with kisses. She wept, alarmed. I heard the voice of God telling daughter, ”I didn’t grasp anything either!”