A Darkness/On God

We used to play hide and seek, you’d hide and I’d seek.
Youth group. I was nine, and you, thirteen.
I remember you hiding in the pews, asking God if he could still see you
And then you stood up, and yelled “HOW ABOUT NOW?”, and we both waited, silence following. I felt a part of you then, the part of being suspended in infinity without ever being seen. And I whispered to God, too, “what about me?” And as it goes with most non-prophet children, we went unnoticed. You turned to Science and I, to apathy.

It’s a funny thing, feeling alone. It’s not as easy as surrounding yourself with people and making plans. Partially, it’s the knowing you’ll never be able to articulate yourself in a way that any other person can fully understand.

We learn of the importance of delivery, of compromise and tolerance in response to perception and the biology of the brain. You see, each person is coming from a different place, interpreting things in different ways. Which is cool and all, I can appreciate another point of frame, but it doesn’t do much for the point I’m trying to make.

A couple of years later, I had a thought that maybe we had been seen and not heard. So I marched to the hill near my house with a sign in hand reading “can you see me now?” And to try to stay objective, for those who may not believe in heaven, but instead a layering of dimensions, I flashed my sign to the whole of the night, up, down and left and right. I waited, but the only thing that happened was the falling of a chestnut from a tree and I cried and I cried, unsure if it was just as it was, gravity and time, or a measly sign in response to mine.

Recently, I heard your feet, that hollow bellow between the church seats. The running away, the feeling of having been betrayed. The soft light in the almost-night.

The thing is, apathy fades and Science is God-like. I wondered if you’d ever found him suspended between an infinity of neurons or dendrites, or if I would ever find him hanging from the sun, swinging in the light.

I started writing this without a reason in sight, and I had a thought that maybe we are just a scripture without a purpose assigned. That maybe one day, these words will call out for me and I won’t pay a mind.

But I don’t have the answers as I often pretend I do, merely the notion that we’re going unnoticed because we’re just out of focus.

Spinning in space without a clue,
chasing our tails,

Looking for God,
while he’s out looking for you.
– J. Oldhoff


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