In the rush of thoughts to fingertips,
in the clatter of keys;
In the percolating furnace,
in the sighing of my sleeping son.
In the fish-breath of my old dog,
in the memories of all the cats I've loved;
In the coursing awareness of my seedlings,
in the cool frosty glass in my windows.
In the smattered red wash on the highway,
in the torn bits of fluff on the shoulder of the road;
In the chilling breeze that sets a timer on comfort,
in the sharp thorns that caught me dreaming.
In the tender silken thread that is new life,
in the cautious coming forth of each new day;
In the words we trade, for better or worse,
in all the ways we weave,
togetherness is god.
This bit of consciousness is brought to you by... well, me. But I was inspired by a writing prompt (at the Pagan Experience) asking about our gods. I'm an all-out animist. I thought about penning an essay about that, but that's been done. Y'all probably know what animism is - and if not, you can google it - so I thought I'd just express myself a little more directly. Because poetry is, in fact, more direct than an essay.