The older I get

the more gunshots sound like music,
the more a baby crying makes me want to say
“Ahhh…the kid’s learning something.”

And also,
the more often I am compelled to weep
at some song as it perfects
the air it rides on. 

The older I get

the less I believe
that what everybody says
is true, the more I want to look for
and proclaim
exceptions to rules.

And also,
how simple my understanding of God becomes
when I take concern for humanity
out of the definition of “God.” 

The older I get

the more amazed I become
that I am older, that I have survived,
and also
that it has not become easier
with experience…

such arrogance.
Such selfishness!

That this exists, all of it,
ought to humble me out of any desire
for more than this,
but I behave as if I am central
and my needs are central,
as if salvation
was ever any part of the Plan.

The older I get,
the more at ease I become
with the idea that I will pass
sooner than later, and also,
that I will be
forgotten sooner,
replaced, regrown,  
and God won’t even notice.