I’ve misplaced my thoughts about God
They are here
Somewhere
On the shelf between a pack of tarot cards and my Chomsky book
In the back of the drawer stained with red ink not blood
On the lips of a love
Under the tongue of another
Floating around in memories of my mother
I find stray bobby pins every single day so theology is close
No doubt
Under the wise line drawing of my nine-year-old
Inside the cracks of the coffee cup
My brake light comes on a lot now – Is that one?
The flexed quadriceps of a Philly dancer
The friend of a friend with cancer
God is mystery not answer
I have them – thoughts about God
They are here
Somewhere
Caught in the bathroom sink strainer
Hidden on the cold side of the pillow
Pulled with lint from my pocket to the dresser
These faded found coins
And the incomprehensible
By Brandon Mitts. Brandon is a painter and a writer from Oklahoma, and for the last twenty years, his feet have worn a curious path through arts and ministry. Visit brandonmitts.com to see more things from his creative world.