From Where I Sit

Some say
when you take the exit,
pay the toll,
and start on that highway north,
you’ll finally see the face of God.

But from where I sit,
I’d rather wrap my familiar leg
around the legs of the one I love,
with my familiar arm on flesh
as warm as his and his as warm as mine.

I haven’t felt up to God for awhile,
I can wait to hear those trumpets blow;
until I get done with love right here
the only show I anticipate
is between us two. It keeps us out of trouble too.

The exit and the toll won’t disappear,
and there’s surely comfort in a traveled road,
that bumper to bumper flight to heaven;
but earthly love and earthly flesh
is all of heaven I need just now. God knows.