God won’t appear to me and say;
“Leave hear and go there…”,
I am not obedient Abraham.
God won’t appear to me as a burning bush,
I am not old Moses with a dream of Exodus.
God won’t appear to me as baby Jesus,
I am not Mary waiting for Messiah.
Beautiful Bathsheba bathing on top of the world,
tore down David who had too many women,
would surely rip me in pieces, who have too few women.
God would know….
A picture of Tulip I painted when I was a kid
was hung on the wall of my Church.
Let’s paint a woman who would destroy me.
Let’s paint God who would reveal
My sleeping dream,
My baby-like tender mind.