Can Opener

Like other domestica:
Ink-filled pens
Sharpeners, staplers,
And can openers
You can travel for years
Before you meet The One

Then, in a moment,
The metal lid yields
A smooth easy incision
And what was beneath
Is open to the blue sky

A blade, disguised
As a music chord
A Monet, a mime, a
Dancer’s move,
A line in a love song
And I’m sliced open
Spilling the light
You’ve been packing
Inside

Little did I know, I am
A suitcase for the Almighty
On His travels

Until he finds you