A Sleeping god

I still remember when I tripped over him

He didn’t budge or react

I wasn’t looking where I was going

And I tripped over the body of a god

Sleeping on the road

A white haired, white beard, homeless god

That no one seemed to notice

My initial frustration quickly evaporated

At the sight of a homeless god sleeping

His ribs were showing through his ripped shirt

And despite the cool night

He was warm to the touch

As I ran my fingers over and over his rib cage

I noticed the missing rib

Which God had taken for unknown reasons

God had a lot of need to know basis acts

Like tornadoes, moonsoons, famines and floods

You could ask why until you turn blue or green

But all you will get is a bureaucratic silence

But why was a homeless god was sleeping

On the path I walk every day?

Meanwhile I couldn’t stop stroking his beautiful ribs

And wondering if he was ever going to wake up

The traffic of busy lives around us never stopped

Except for your occasional voyeurs

And not long after a cult was formed

With me as the priest for the sleeping god

I never paid them attention

Since my fingers were intent

On unraveling the mysteries of god’s ribs

I was so drinking the nectar of gods

That I failed to notice when I passed

From this life to the next

And just has my head fell to his chest

As if I was intent on listening to his heartbeat

He opened his eyes

And I never returned to this life

I was part of the lives and universes that dwelled inside him

Apparently I was the first to stumble on a homeless god sleeping

And now you have been warned

Watch where you stop

You just might find yourself

Stroking the ribs of a homeless god sleeping


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