I was driving down I-64 with Jesus
on my dashboard and the Devil on my shoulder,
and on those warm midnight drives
I learned that I never found God
in colorful rosary beads or begging for
forgiveness from an unknown face
behind an iron curtain.

I found God on the street corner
begging for groceries and promising a good time,
I found God bagging my groceries
or waiting at the bus stop.
I found God's reflection in the tears
of my mother.
I found God in every love letter
I sent and every kiss I received.

God isn't dead.
His heartbeat lives in all that we do,
we just have to find the pulse.