I wish I had a savior
I could wrap myself up in, like a blanket
like a warm fire in fall

He would love me with eyes
that saw through my skin
and into my soul.

He would not be shallow.

I wish I had a God
who knew me inside and out
who would smile when I smiled
who would help me find the answers.

I wish I had a Maker
who dug his hands into me
and I could find the fingerprints still fresh in my skin,
like the burns from an oven, like the light from the sky.

I long for a God.

There is a space inside of me for Him
or Her or It or Them, I don’t know
and I want to have arms to embrace
that future, that sovereign;
no one’s there.

I am empty in that space.

No one has spoken to me.
I look for Heaven in the empty spaces
in silences and the blackness
wedged between stars in the sky
in the ribbonlike oceans of the Milky Way

I try to find my Maker in me
and in the deep crevasses of rivers
in the smooth soft cadence of the tides.

I want a savior
because I want to know:
if I cannot save myself
who will catch me when I fall?
Who will remember me when I am gone?
Who will give me the answers, when my hands are sore from searching?

I cannot find Him; will you help me, somehow?