Today I was thinking about God
and how it must feel
to hold the universe in your hands.
I wonder if the earth to him
is like a small piece of clay
taken between his index finger and thumb
and rolled into a tiny ball
handled with such a delicate touch
as to give each surface
the same amount of pressure
sculpting mountains, shaping oceans
creating infinities
with momentary movements.

Do his fingers slip on occasion?
unbalancing the careful equilibrium?
I've been told that God makes no mistakes
but nothing seems to make sense to us
down below
trying to make a home
on this ever-spinning pottery

I wonder, is his other hand preoccupied as well?
maybe the earth we live on is just one of many art projects
or is our little ball the only one he has invested in?

sometimes I wonder if he knows how it feels to be lost
blindly stumbling through the blizzard
snow flying at our faces and getting caught in our noses and eyes
feeling around for something to hold onto in darkness
trying to be good and do well in a place that is confusing, unscripted
everything we know taught by sheep who call themselves shepherds
when in truth
they are just as lost as the rest of the flock.

-kk