I came across this poem recently and I can't stop thinking about it.
It's called "I Saw God on the Train" by Lucas Jones, and it's one of those pieces that feels casual and funny on the surface but is actually wrestling with some of the deepest questions we have about life, death, and what it all means.
I'm going to share it with you, and then I want to walk through why it hit me so hard.
I Saw God on the Train by Lucas Jones
I saw God on the train, but pretended I didn't, so I sat far away from the seat he was sitting.
And then he got up, I think probably to piss, and he noticed me there and said, "Oh, what's this? What are you saying? You hiding from me?"
I said, "Ah mate, just a comfier seat."
And he looked at me like I was a kid covered in chocolate, surrounded by wrappers, saying, "Don't know what happened."
And he goes, "Come on then, mate, I've got a few minutes. Tell me what's wrong, but don't fuck around with it."
And it shocked me then that it fit in one sentence: "I just think heaven's a stupid incentive."
Like what, a shit life for a beautiful death? And those who are evil can suddenly repent?
Like a killer or nonce can live like a monster, then right at the end say, "I'm sorry, dear God, sir," and end up in heaven, right there with my nana? She's doing some knitting, he's waving a hammer.
It's like, "Jesus, God, what a horrible deal." And he goes, "Yeah, it's fucked. I know how you feel."
I'm like, "Mate, you're the one spinning the wheel."
And he goes, "Listen, I'll tell you a secret. All that stuff, mate… I didn't speak it. Like the old joke says about liars and men: if God wrote the book, why are you holding the pen?
Now the rules I wrote, I wrote on your heart. The truth I spoke, you've known from the start. Be kind. Don't harm. It isn't that hard.
Heaven, it's just life, if you're doing your part.
You want white clouds and endless skies? Yeah, look around. You don't have to die.
I know it probably brings you some pain to think of the dead as just dust in the grave, but humans can't comprehend it when I say: life is a cloud, and death is the rain."
And I got to my stop and felt kind of mad. I'm not sure he answered the questions I had.
Then I looked up and saw the sun rising. He said, "You're looking for heaven… but you're the one hiding."
The first time I read this, I had to sit with it for a while.
Because on the surface, it's this casual, almost funny encounter on a train. But it's actually tackling something most of us have thought about at some point. What happens after we die? What's fair? What's the point of being good if terrible people can just say sorry at the end and supposedly end up in the same place?
The narrator raises this genuinely frustrating question. A terrible person can repent at the last minute and end up in heaven with his innocent nana? She's knitting, he's waving a hammer? What kind of deal is that?
And God doesn't argue. He basically agrees. "Yeah, it's fucked. I know how you feel." Which makes him feel less like some distant authority and more like someone who's also fed up with how humans have framed everything.
Then he drops the real truth. "All that stuff, mate… I didn't speak it." The scripture, the religious rules, the complicated systems. All human inventions. Not divine. The only real rules, he says, were written on your heart from the start. Be kind. Don't harm. It isn't that hard.
And then the line that keeps coming back to me: "Heaven, it's just life, if you're doing your part."
Stop waiting for heaven after you die. Heaven is already here if you just live with kindness. If you look around instead of looking up.
The line "life is a cloud and death is the rain" is beautiful. It reframes death not as an ending but as a transformation. Clouds don't disappear. They just become rain. Which eventually becomes clouds again. Part of the same cycle.
And then the ending lands perfectly. The narrator walks away feeling unsatisfied, like his questions weren't answered. But then God's final line flips everything: "You're looking for heaven, but you're the one hiding."
He opened the poem by literally hiding from God on the train. Pretending he didn't see him. Sitting far away. So the whole thing comes full circle. The answer was right in front of him the whole time. He just didn't want to see it.
I think a lot of us do this. We're looking for meaning, for peace, for heaven, for something. And we think it's somewhere else. Somewhere later. After we fix this thing or achieve that thing or after we die.
But maybe it's already here. Maybe we're the ones hiding from it.
Stop looking up. Start looking around.
Be kind. Don't harm. Show up for the people you love. Notice the sun rising. Notice the life that's already here.
That's heaven. That's the point.
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