November and it’s still so warm
says my dog.
Is it a zephyr, he asked?
I said I didn’t know
as we started on our evening walk.
On the sidewalk, along the lake, warm wind
but somehow a chill
blew into my body
raising goose bumps.
A warm chill.
Not scary.
Beckoning me and my dog
down to the shore
amongst the tall trees.
Cradling and wrapping me in fingers and blankets unseen.
I ask questions into the breath wind.
God, I’m worried, anxious and scared.
Tell me, God, who will win the election?
A feeling fills me
with more warmth
and certainty.
God is saying
there is a plan.
I might not see it or understand.
But God has a plan.
Even if the “bad guy” gets elected?
Are you kidding me?
Are you messing with me, God?
I have a plan, said God.
Not a voice.
Instead, a shimmering, rolling heat down my nerves
branching out to tickle every cell, every chromosome, gene and nucleotide.
Stunned and curious,
I plunk my self down on a bench by the river mouth
And soak it up.
After a time
And some tears
The goose bumps leave me.
The dog says it’s time to go.
So we head home.
