Mexican Stand-off

Tonight I stood at a wet bus
stop and almost met God
The lightening penetrated an unwilling
sky and lit the night with it's audacity
For a moment, I thought to take off
my headphones
"People get struck like that," says my
mother's voice
Fear has a momentary grip on me
but I leave them be
Instead, I look up and meet
God's gaze
Without word we've challenged one
another, though I've got a feeling
He rarely puts up with duels
If he bellows I can't hear him
Not with these headphone
I and the sky deny his bolts but
He is redundant and does not take
"no" for an answer Can't say
I blame him It's easy to force
your will on such an empty space
The bus came before I did and I
missed meeting with my maker
"People get struck like that," says
my mother
I wished for that to be true Never before now
had I wanted for that to be truer.