By: Ashu Arora
Edited By: Ash Huggins
| I wish God had a driver’s license | As George Floyd gasped for air, |
| so that whenever I see a homeless man | his words echoed everywhere, |
| outside 555 Penn Avenue, | ‘I can’t breathe.’ |
| next to the Canadian Embassy, | from miles away, |
| shivering in the cold with a hollow stomach | I witnessed this, but only on YouTube |
| I would summon God | I know if God had a driver’s license, |
| to drive this man to a fancy restaurant | he would have rushed to the scene |
| and buy him a delicious meal at least once | to whisper the words of Maya Angelou, |
| so that he can sleep peacefully in his tent | in his ears, ‘you alone are enough’. |
| Or, when a friend of mine | Last week in Gaza, |
| wrestling with suicidal thoughts | a newborn’s cry was silenced by a bomb |
| calls me from miles away | so, maybe if God was not too busy |
| and says he is on the verge of giving up all hope, | in creating the myriad of tombs, |
| at that moment when I have no other way to | he would have driven to the mother |
| console him, I could nudge God to take | and told her to plant a final kiss on her belly bump |
| my spirit to him and intertwine it with his | as the bud would neither witness the dawn |
| in a way like dusk transitions into dawn | nor would be able to unfurl its petals |
| so that he knows he is not alone. | for the forthcoming spring bloom! |