Do you know you are a walking miracle? Perhaps not. Because then you would know, as Whitman suggests, that you don’t have to go looking for God. You would know how much divinity there is in a ball and socket joint that makes a leg swing so smoothly forward. And realize it is the same motion that propelled Jesus on the road to Emmaus. You would recognize Holy Spirit in a young dancer who suddenly knows she no longer has to memorize the choreography. It is imprinted on her soul. Now she flies with joy.
Look at her face and see the newborn babe she once was. Remember you can see a baby’s face in everyone, from bearded men to voluptuous women. And in that shadow of infancy is the mark of creation. How is that not the face of God?
But it’s easy to forget, especially when those faces frown or, worse, stare back blankly with no sign of love, like, or recognition. I know I forget. That’s when I go looking for those letters from God dropped in the street. Sometimes I need a letter like never before. I’m grateful Whitman has left them behind for me.