Boxing God

People like to keep their God in a box, which
I never seem to have on hand, either
for religion or that gift needing
to be wrapped. So I use a zipper seal bag,
and despite the advertising, it leaks,
and God spills all over my refrigerator.
Perhaps I should try a decorative tin or
one of those accordion folders with
tabs, to help with easy reference.

He doesn’t seem willing to be contained,
always turning up in the bottom of my purse
with pennies and old receipts. Once I found
the Lord beneath the cushions on the couch,
and one time late Sunday the children left him
out with their toys. I spied him through
the kitchen window as the rain began.

You have heard the Lord is like the wind,
which I might try to bottle and sell
at roadside stands or home-based parties.
I have labels in coordinated colors, and
on my birthday I received a little gadget
that prints my name, over and over.
God smiles, and affixes my offering
across his workshirt pocket.