fine lines

Tread the line as it treads itself
an unraveling fit for kings and queens
ceremonies laden with love and coated in gold
beneath the realm of backwards progress
He says between sips of a tin beer can
Did you know God is everywhere?
Did you know He’s in my drink? In the stink of my breath?
Between the dirty seats of this train
and the ugliest smog of night?
In the lost fog of insanity
and the clean air of clarity?
I saw Him once then never again
A glaring light, the kind to blind you
the kind to strip and cleanse you
of the stink of your breath
and the dirty seats of this train
and the ugliest smog of night

I said to him I never saw
such glaring light, the kind to blind
Where could I find it? I asked him gently
Between the edge of night and day?
Tell me the splendor inside of the secret
On the corner of left
and the crosswalks of right?
Scribbling the lines of heaven and hell
the ones that tell you where to go?
He said to me, you cannot find it
but for the sole reason
that you do not try