Honest Injun’

There’s lots of us down here.


I don’t see how you can pick me out of the crowd.

I’ve always been told, or heard or read, that each soul is cherished, a treasure beyond counting.

But, I see prettier people than me, everywhere….

I know smarter people than I, everywhere.

I know funny people, I know happy people, I know goofy, crazy people, I know more interesting, more worldly people than me.

I know lots of people that I’d like to be that don’t know or ever heard of me.

Heck, if I passed ME on a sidewalk I probably wouldn’t even notice me.

So how can you see me, down here amongst the herd?

How can you make me out amidst the throng?

I don’t feel like a diamond in the rough.

I feel like a needle in a hay field…on double coupon day.

How can you tell the difference between he, she or me?

Me and my son, Logan circa 1990

What makes me so much more valuable than falling sparrows….?

I know that I am not arrayed with beauty’s finery as the wildflowers Solomon saw in his dream….

Am I a flower…?

Am I a thorn in your side…?

How am I supposed to believe that I am special, that I am a ripple on a bigger pond, that I am not just another fish in the sea…?

How am I supposed to believe you even look at me?

How, can I possibly buy the fact that you would even notice I might go missing, someday…?

How can I believe that you know how many hairs are on my head?

How can I believe that I even matter to you, that you even worry about me…or us, down here?

How do I know you’re even listening to me?

How do I know you’re even real?

How do I know that being on my stupid knees in the middle of my bedroom, screaming at the ceiling, shaking my fists at the window, begging you for guidance, answers or, I don’t know, maybe I just wanna hear your voice for once!!

How do I know if all that hollering and shouting on my knees does any good at all!?

How do I know that you even give a damn about me or what I’m doing down here; what I’m doing just to get by day by day….?

I don’t know why!

Well, I kinda do…

I just….know.

I know you’re there…somewhere….


You see… A long time ago….

My grandmother told me you were there.

“Can you see, God?” asked Granny one Sunday, long ago, when I was just a little sparrow; not worth much, then.


I looked around the church with big eyes…

All I saw was people crying, singing or praying.

I saw lots of tears and smiles…

“I don’t see God, Granny” I said

She pointed around the church, to each individual Waldo….

“He’s there, and there, and there…”

I watched as her finger swept the room.


God was invisible and tickling everyone.

Then, she slowly, knowingly pointed at the ceiling, high, high above us; I had to squint to see the lights they were so high up…

She whispered “He’s in heaven, too”

I looked up at heaven…
Everyone knows heaven is, up…yonder.

I couldn’t see God but, I could hear people talking to him, all around us.

I looked at Granny and asked her
“God’s in heaven?” she nodded “Honest?” I queried further.

Granny crossed her heart and hoped to die or stick a needle in her eye…

That’s always been enough proof for me…

It’s a kid rule that can never be broken…

Granny knew you….

She said you’re real.

That’s all the faith I need, I guess.

If my Granny loved you, you must be ok.

I know you…


I know she’s there with you…. .

I know you because my Granny said you were there…

Honest Injun’

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