Yesterday I visited a priest, an imam, a rabbi and a pauper.
One God.
Three God.
All God.
No God.

And yet today she visited me in the form of a goat. “Baaaa” she called out and I knew it was her. I recognized the accent.
I called “Baaaa” back. With reverence. In jest.
She thought it was funny and ate some grass.
We locked eyes.
It was time.
The kingdom of heaven awaited me.
Ask any questions and answers shall you receive.
And yet I was baaaaaren.
I had paradoxes for the philosophers.
Poetry for the beloved.
But for a goat, unprepared.
“Why do we suffer?” I called out. It was the most I could muster.
Black clouds enveloped the sky. Silence dominated the land.
She looked down to the floor and whispered. “Baa”