I looked. It was the hardest thing I knew,
the grit-hard, neon-lit surface of the street.
A rainy blackness, touched with gray and blue
was there, a priceless carpet for my feet.
I listened to a brash discord of sounds,
cars, trains and people shouting. As the town purred
its life, I had a thought which still astounds.
A note of God’s quiet laughter could be heard.