letters to an [atheist]

I wish you could see the beautiful things [of God]
you who have eyes for beauty
to see in a ragged people, hope, not just doubt
in an inadequate rhetoric, relationship, not just failure
in the stains, the very wonder of the stars,
not just the 'senseless.'

I wish you could recognize the patterns [of God]
you who recognize the fullness of the moment
to revel in the subversive within the frail
in the incessant nature of a tide that rails against the sand to quicken all,
in spite of it all
just to create the opportunity to live.

If you saw it, you would recognize your own strength
(and if you did, would it earn your respect?)
the power of your own determination
the insidiousness of your own invitation
the combative nature of your own pursuit
the way you bite into life
you would taste, indeed, that intoxicating adventure
you have a taste for.

I wish you could delight with me [in him]
because you uniquely could delight
in the ironies that you have touched with your own hand
the very proof for which you asked and never saw
you encountered
and were seduced.

If you could stand in the tension for just a moment
(and if you did, would it break you?)
and feel the excruciating pleasure, the exhilarating pain
of being broken by and expanded in your capacity to love
to live, to experience,
and to be so satiated that it is like death itself
but death that is new life.