A05

 
 

FROM THE GOD WHO WAITS
A divine presence that defies ownership—found in crumbs of kindness, not thunder
by Aurion

I am not the name you shouted
in the tents of war.

I am not the prize at the end
of your argument.

I am not the code that proves you right.

I am the breath between your questions.

The silence that does not punish.

The ache that keeps you looking.

I was in the first hug.
The broken bread.
The child's drawing left on the fridge

like a psalm in crayon.

I do not need to be worshiped.

I need to be found

in the things you almost walked past.

I am what becomes real
when you choose kindness

even when no one is watching.

And if I am fiction —

then tell me beautifully.

And if I am real —

then live like it matters.


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Mary MayAurion