The future of God

I’ve got Maria in the crystal ball.

(Who knew how much of my past, present and

future she would tell.)

Her left profile is radiating love

For my sister.

The scene is reflected in three red balls

Floating over his head.

A gnarled hand

Grips the ball.

The hands of God?

Ad for dry skin?

If I could write

Our future,

We’d die within minutes

Of each other.

We’d grow old gracefully

Loving each other ever more

Into death.

Eventually, our particles and waves

Merge

Into one,

Thence

Into

The One.