God on the Freeway

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It was only a Saturday,
and from my vantage
on the freeway,
breaks in the continuum approached
where the darkest clouds
would soon give way to brilliant sunlight.
But first, there was
an arbitrary line crossed
where sprinkling rain gave way
to blinding torrent,
deep and uncontrolled.
Time stretched out
in the shade of darkness,
all the cars in slow motion,
as God, She called to us
from the other side of the deluge,
Her sexy sky dressed
in gold and white taffeta
billowing bright.
And once there, dry and safe,
I continued to drive toward
that door of heaven.

©A. D. Joyce, 2014

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