Belief

{this side of the stars}

dear god:
this may not come as a surprise to you,
but
i don’t really know
what i’m doing.
~
i see so many
claiming to understand you perfectly,
to know just exactly what pleases you
and what disgusts you –
they all seem to get it,
to not struggle a bit
with the idea
that they claim to understand
every last detail about
the Creator of a billion galaxies.
~
but i do –
struggle, that is,
to understand
why and how and that
you love
me.
~
little old me.
~
i’m not even a star,
or a planet or moon.
i’m just blip,
one speck of the human race
that in all carnal understanding
is quite dispensable, disposable.
~
i certainly don’t begin to match
the glory of a galaxy or a fire of a planet
(especially not after i’ve just woken up).
i don’t always obey my Creator
or orbit just as i should
or shine with the magnitude of the sun.
~
sometimes i just stop,
too afraid or too lazy or too overwhelmed
to continue on.
half the time i don’t even know
which direction i should be going.
~
i, for one, don’t understand you.
i doubt i ever will this side of the stars.
but then i pause and consider
how you’ve hung the stars in place,
how you’ve drawn the orbits of the planets,
and i find a glimmer of hope
that you might possibly
know what you’re doing,
even if
none of the rest of us do.
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