Confined in brick or iron box is not a God I know, reduced to wafers held with gloves by men at circus shows.
And others claim a Spirit near descends at certain times, usually with silver plate and fortified good wine.
Then some say, a devil comes with pitchfork pointed beard, to chase us all around the streets, like Benny Hill appears.
Then others paint a sad faced man who hangs with blood stained tears, enough to frighten hardened hearts to heighten all their fears.
The God I know is found in Love, in silence, peaceful ways, in the innocence of kids, in kindness every day.
I see him in the daily smiles of acts done chaste and pure, helping with a shopping bag or charity for sure.
In the hospitality of coffee with a friend, sharing every friendly branch where two birds sit and bend.
When other’s thoughts approach your mind with doctrines black and grey, with suits and cars, prosperity, do not be afraid.
For Spirit lives within the realms and hears not earthly praise, reaching to our higher selves with kindness every day.
Not in stone but in the act of passing thoughts of Love, builds the temple in your heart, where thoughts come from above.
