Mystery

a beggar crouches outside

the tenements in the drizzling

rain / blanket pulled over 

his head he waves an empty

bowl to the sky / raises his brow

to Heaven and as his bowl 

fills with rain he wonders 

who is God

who is God that forces me

to make my bed here among

sewage / who is God that

invents love and then takes

it away / who is God

that makes me revolting in the

sight of others / who is God

he is crying but it is not a

question any longer but an

answer to all the dead questions

and as the rain falls like angels

invisible to us and the clouds

as they part like mysteries 

as the beggar blinks back rain water 

he cries tears that aren't his own 

whispering in quiet faith

the only fact he knows:

who is God