Where is my place

Where is the space and the time and the place and the rhyme and the face…
The rhyme is right here, but where is my place?
Is there no place like home, or is it a constant journey to roam?
My place is not to replace your face or the face of the world
For the world’s place is all football, shopping malls, and alcohol
And I care not for that tall tale
I only care for God, but where is His face?
Where is the face of the LORD in a world of mass confusion?
I have a Gillette Fusion, but the face of God doesn’t need a shave
The world should just behave
But where is the face of the LORD in a rat race of whores, wars, hardcore racism, rape, and more?
Where is the face of God when He won’t even nod His head and acknowledge that He’s not dead?
He sits back on His throne like an unknown drone all alone and says:
“I wonder what I can do to these people
All My people beneath that steeple worship Me
But they can’t see Me
But I’ll just let them be.  They don’t need to see Me; all they need is faith.”
But why faith?
Why faith when we have eyes to see the birds and the bees and the beauty of His creation
Yet we can’t see Him
Where does He want me to be?
I suppose I’ll have to wait and see…