The Coming of God

by Tom Hatch

The train is moving along
North or south the clip
Wiggle side to side, up and down
Tipping onto the smooth trestle
The trees, the houses, the bushes
The ground opens to a view of
Long Island Sound
All eyes it seem to peer up and out at
The blue water, the sky the open
Air distant cumulus clouds the distant land
The coming of God it seems
For a moment then
Swallowed back into
The trees, the houses, the bushes
Solid ground, wiggle side to side,
Up and down
Eyes turn back to sleep
Reading newspaper
Computers, iPhones, etc.
It was only God for few seconds
So we go back to being mortals
That we cannot help ourselves to be
Passing over water on a bridge