I've Practiced Looking for Things

 I've Practiced Looking For Things

One night

I crept outside into the void

and peered intently through a telescope

years of practice

to see the glimmer of Stephan's Quintet

The family of galaxies at the beginning of  It's a Wonderful Life

who decide George Bailey's fate

I'm not sure if I saw them, or just the flicker of something holy in the infinite.

Today I sat beside the dying man

And waited, just the three of us

the Grim Reaper in an empty rocking chair, respectfully on the other side of the bed

both of us quiet and patient, watching him

His gasping mouth so dry

and suddenly

the same galactic flash across his face

a holy mystery

I squeezed his hand and told what might be a lie

and said I'd see him tomorrow.