Pagan

Blown away by every second every day

every particle, leaf of grass, and inch of space—

not a single one of us is vile.

I see for miles, the world intricate Indian carpet splayed out

as the herds parade down the river’s banks, how the birds follow

the berries and the flowers find the bees, the seas

teeming with sharks, starfish from the Arctic to the coral reef,

all wound together with a supreme ball of yarn,

old fingers stitch the visions that we gather from the most beautiful dreams.

The world is changing though it spins the same old way

while the sun slowly grows till it explodes on us some day.

Remember staring at the stars in your backyard

when you were little, asked your Father, “Where’s God?” He said, “Far.”

Now you’re a bigger little and no, God doesn’t live up there,

She’s right here on the ground with us, a loving touch in the air

stretching from the crust to the thinnest slice of atmosphere.