Of Theologians and Farmers Alike

My God is the heart of the universe.
My God radiates gravity like it was light.
It started to hold the whole lot of us together
as soon as It figured out how to let us go.

We are held in mighty arms, like infants,
by a God that can not stoop to know us.

We are related.
But we are not of a kind. You see.
We do not belong in the house. Not yet.

We are like a supernatural child’s pet.
Arguing against Its parents
for our existence
since the very beginning.

We are God’s garden.
Its favorite pet project.
We enter the house at dinner time.

And are kept
in a kennel
in the backyard.

See.
Daddy didn’t want to get a dog.

My God
is a mom
who got one
anyway.