July 22, 2015 Trying to describe what god is to me is like Trying to remember a dream the moment I awaken The harder I try, the more it fades Until I find the balance between conscious and not Just read the emotions and the glimpses Without active thought Then some comes back to me Enough to understand the message Or it's like When a smell brings on a memory It's never one thing specifically It's the concept of it, the feelings it contained I smell and remember the summer of 1992 Grandma's kitchen in Warren My Dad on a Sunday My Mom's house at Christmas I just have to let it wash over me It's instant and all-consuming It doesn't run slow like a movie And it's only mine That's how god feels to me It's that glimpse, that memory So deeply profound and personal From the innermost folds of my mind And I can't begin to convey its worth God isn't an individual or an entity for me It's an experience, too big to...