God on Poetry Festival?

for Jönköping

From my window
like Hamlet I hear
words, words, words
but will they reach heaven?

Through the window I see
a lonely poet
reading his poems
people pass
some linger
some sit down
drawn into his word.

Suddenly church bells start to ring
to the rhythm of his voice
Is that God?

A sudden whiff of wind
and autumn leaves dance around him
together with napkins
from the café and some
forgotten poetry books.
Is that God?

Then the wind calms
the bells and the poet are silent
a butterfly lands
on his shoe.
Is that God?

Anette Höglund