Archived: Asymptotes and Irreverent Hopes by William Pratt

We’ve assumed the characteristics of God

as if we wrote him as a stock character

in our YA novel lives.

I give you money. I get food.

I go to work. I get paid.

I pursue meaning. I find fulfillment.

I pursue love. I find Him.

When we treat reality like a math equation,

we divide existence into understanding until

the numbers don’t add up,

and a savior never arrives.

But here’s this:

Another equation,

for those more visually inclined,

God and I—

two infinite lines

stretching beyond this universe.

He never came back for me

because he never left.

He never crossed my path

because we were always moving in tandem.

He’s always getting closer,

but he’ll never arrive.

I’ll always feel Him,

but I’ll never experience Him.

This is our mathematical romanticism,

tactically torn between what I want to see

and what I do,

yoked to incalculable beauty,

asymptotes and irreverent hopes.