GOD IN GROSS, IN FINE

God
in gross,
in fine,
in all the things you want the most
in the biggest heavy load
heaped upon your form so high
you nearly sure
you’ll lose your mind.

There, In space
hid twixt all the kinds
of excess stuff,
from times when you’ve had
much too much,
to those with truly not enough,

in all those other folks and creatures,
plants
the mountain, valley, river sea,
and all sorts of other wonders,
of vegetation, music, incantation,
and surprising, singular, and strange
earth features,

in the stillest afternoon,
the gray, the black, the stars, the moon,
the thunders,

The joys you felt to be like heaven
and the pains you felt quite sure were hell,
your forebears, brothers, sisters, children,
friends, lovers,
all those other folks
and you. . .

Yes,
do reach out
but reach in, too,
if you really, truly want
to feel the Presence
that makes us whole
and fully human,
and drives all that we can
and what we can’t,
and shields those chinks
we have in us
that tend at times
to let the dark and gloom in.

It may be bigger, stronger, better,
but it’s both the spirit and the letter,
writ intrinsically in you,
in every cell of every color,
be your eyes black, brown, green, grey, or blue,
God’s in the soil on which you trod,
and in every single cell of you.

In moments quiet,
if you care,
you’ll drop behind your face
and you’ll see–
you’ll find Her there,

if you but breathe
and open up your nose and tongue
and ear and skin,
and your shockingly inclusive view.

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This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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