A thorough soaking
All day long people talk to me,
but there’s seldom poetry on their lips.
Thousands of words and not one memorable line.
I’ve been given enough words, haven’t you?
You, of course, were poetry in motion –
the dance of Your hands, the grace
of Your stride. How
does One live so
that every gesture is a work of art?
I was never one to go looking for a guru,
but o what the passage of time can do!
Now that I have glimpsed Him, I look for my Guru
around every corner, behind every post.
Young atheists – hard and thin, like dried seeds –
but a thorough soaking might one day
produce a delicate blossoming.
Old atheists are exotic birds
whose odd structure and bright plumage
seem not to be evolved by the necessity of survival,
making me wonder how they ever came to be
and why and how they continue to exist.
O child of God, you have countless lifetimes left
to learn, in its entirety, the vast poetry of God.
(from A Jewel in the Dust, 2011)
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