LEARNING TO FLY by karen marie christa minns

I sent you a kite on Thanksgiving with a rainbowed tail.
On its painted face, a Phoenix
fiercely rising fiery and red.
You laughed as you left to fly it, calling back:
” Now
I believe
I can touch the face of God…”

Miles away I had to smile.
I just
never said all you need to find God is
a single finger and tap
Your breast.