This is a more recent poem based on something that actually happened. While it's doesn't talk about God or faith directly I think it does touch on related issues (i.e. how we treat people when in an "anonymous" situation).
she's last week's shopping list
folded over, bent backwards
with damp fingers until the
crease cracks with middle age,
it's belly spreading into an ever-
increasing bulge of soft yield too
worn to uphold the top half of the
list. when the breeze comes, eggs
and milk and bread crash into
the current, letters ping against
each other. and both g's and an
h are lost forever underneath
tomatoes and an apple pie at
the very end of the page.