I Was Five and I Knew

I knew everything there is to know 

by the time I turned five. Like rain—

it is for swaddling your bones in quilts 

and listening, motionless,

nothing else, 

just listening.

If you do so close enough, it sounds a lot 

like how the idea of God makes some people 

believe in things unseen. I knew then

that I was made for blind faith.

The sky is an open book. It will whisper

its origin stories and saturate your shoulders

with its wisdom if you lean into it,

if you look up.

I was five and I knew

that nothing else could ever teach me more.