a man visits me
in a small shop.
i am on
one side
of the counter,
he is on
the other.
he speaks to me
at a rapid pace,
tells me,
“i will not listen
to people
who do not
believe me
when i say that
god speaks to me,
i will not listen
to people
who tell me
i am crazy.”
i nod at him,
smile.
i look at him
for so long
my eyes no longer see
what is in front of them.
when he stops for
a breath,
i speak,
also
at a rapid pace.
i use my hands a lot
while talking.
again able to see
what is
in front of me,
i look at
and see him
while talking.
i wave my hands
all around,
i look
all around.
i say things that
some people
might think are
crazy.
when he leaves
he shakes my hand
and we smile
at each other
and i tell him
in a full honesty
that brings
unexpected goosebumps
to my pale skin
that he is
welcome anytime,
that i always enjoy
speaking with him.
later, i watch
a man
on a video
in Kenya
eat a hamburger.
he says,
“this is the
first hamburger
i have eaten
in my life”.
he is in his
late 20s,
this Kenyan man,
eating his first hamburger.
smiling.
it makes me
so happy
and so sad
to watch him
that i struggle
to swallow
the cheese and bread
i myself am eating.
that’s all of it,
isn’t it.
so happy
and so sad,
the whole of life.
every breath,
an act of faith.
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