Instead of praying, I ate cheesesteak
and drank red wine,
sat and watched the lizards talk,
and pretended that I was in control
forgetting for a long moment that I was only a passenger on this spaceship
Floating amidst powers beyond comprehension
Then a backpack clad spaniard leaned over me,
gently grabbed my pen, and drew a peace sign on the page
and I wanted to cry from the sheer beauty of a moment standing in the light of the immensity of existence
and a tearful rememberance of my significant insignificance,
and the maze of desires, wishes, wants, and dreams,
that built a wall up blocking gratitude,
the thank-you to life which is all there really is to wish for,
because it offers the only pure happiness in this illusion of the flesh,
and the inevitable loneliness of being alive,
as the world rushes by
and dilapidates the fulfillments of our selfish wants,
leaving us alone and empty,
ready to feel the gratitude of pure being,
a happiness which makes us cry,
and folds us in half with apologies for our forgetfullness to the universe
as we thank the great void for existence as a silly lizard
who every so often remembers to say thank you,
and then, most probably, proceeds to get drunk,
trying not to forget the beauty in everything
amidst crashing stock markets, the smell of stale cigarettes,
and hearts bursting with love,
a great big human family
spinning around on this big round spaceship
in the midst of unknowable infinity