table talk

i often wonder, at what point does God decide to intervene? it would have been ideal sitting there with my little friend drinking coffee talking of death, fears, and eternal life; it would have been best, i think, if you had joined us there. and maybe you did, sipping an apple cinnamon tea, marveling at man's creations, and forgetting that i needed you. to intervene. to convince. to pull out your wand and abbra ca dabra make disbelief disappear. maybe it all happened too fast, and i should just shut up and listen. maybe you have things under control. just maybe.