Looking for God

Looking for God only in lonely places,
I find no one there,
only endless sand:
cacti, lizards and snakes;
glorious sunrises and sunsets.

But I still have a need for people
and a taste for sin,
whether cocktails or steaks or sex,
the delightful sounds of symphonies, jazz,
and, especially, a woman moaning.

What I really need is a woman
who makes love any hour of the day,
but is not a woman
who thinks she must tell what to do.
Who is joyful in love and is careful,
but not insane.

I do like trees and flowers,
down-hanging vines,
and the padding of moss at rivulets,
not to mention springs,
and water so white and so fast
that you cannot hear.

So where do I find what I seek?
How will I know? I am told I have only to wait
and in quiet, listen.
Not to worry, it’s God who will find me.
But I must listen.