A mind is a dangerous place.
We tisk when one goes to waste.
But rare we chide one over-wrought
For lo, it might per chance
By excess spinning
Random cast the dice –
And create a universe.
Surely by our heady power
Of worry, intelligence or education
We can extend a tiny fist
Past future’s protective womb
And prevent the cancer, pinch the flame,
Erase the pain.
If we’re aware of frailty, of the finite
We whisper, “All I have is God.”
Heresy! As if by last resort we
Skeptical approach, ask Him to blow upon our dice.
Lest we rightly evoke His wrath
Let us change our sore refain.
I have God, I have everything!
What is this that He chose me?
Confused, small-minded, ineffectual.
Until I believed – I have God!
I have everything.