It's the night of the annual block party

on the street where I grew up.

The stars are out, as well as some

wispy, artificial-looking gray clouds.

They congeal into a face ...

that of Jesus ...

Terrified, I give up, but then

I force myself to go through with

creating the image in the sky ...

It forms faster than I expected.

It turns to face me—

and I scare myself awake.