In 2025 a Burning Bush is a Rocket to Space

If God spoke to us before,
she will again.
But we walk differently
through Redwood forests
than we do down Manhattan streets.
There, it's the hush.
Here, the boom.

Yesterday, we launched
a pop star into space—
the rocket’s brief flight
burned more fuel
than I’ll use in a lifetime.
Still, I rush through showers,
trying to save water.

If God spoke to us before,
she will again.
But it’s 2025—
a burning bush is passé.
Maybe now,
she appears in a blaze of flame
beneath Katy Perry’s rocket.

It wasn’t Hot n’ Cold,
just hot—
ants on the ground
scorched alive.
And somewhere,
I swear I heard God cry.
I did too—such tiny lives burned.