In ordinary, everyday talking,
When we have to speak
Of God
We place Him far beyond
The clouds
And then the puzzle
Remains of how to see
The One above
Also down here below,
And we need a professional
God-talker
To help us manage
A paradox—
If indeed we succeed
In spotting God
Anywhere in the vicinity.
But I wish
That if we had to start
In a particular place,
God first would be found
Deep inside the marrow
Of all these breathing, becoming,
Decaying, dying, decomposing,
Forgotten, remembered,
Honored, dishonored ones;
The flesh and bones,
Water, rocks, trees, mud,
Bengal tigers and bunnies,
Baby girls and bent old men;
Inhabitants of this teeming creation
And the world itself;
So that the quandary
For those of us who
Have to make some sense of it
Is how we say
That God is here
And deep below,
But She also is
Not just us.