Occasional Impressions

Gemini 3

The Nature of God

I heard God in another room
and, assuming someone else was there,
ran along the corridor,
turned the handle on the door,
surprised that it was open.
It was empty.
I looked under the mattress,
and in the cupboard.
With a careful screwdriver
I dismantled the trouser press,
searched the cases lying on their rack
to find the usual suits and casual slacks.

Then I heard him again, one door down,
the unmistakeable voice of God.
Inside I found the coffee sachets,
the chocolate Waiffa biscuits,
the stuff to clean your morning shoes,
the plastic bottles of lemon shampoo.

Why does God inhabit hotels?
Hasn't he got a home to go to?
And why does he talk to casual acquaintances
when I would chew the fat with him
long into the night,
take him back to my house
for supper by candlelight.

And why have I never met those people
who have had a heart-to-heart with God?
I suppose it's the nature of hotels,
rather than the nature of God.

ijf

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