I write about sky,
clouds, weather,
human suffering and joy
because it is what I know.
Would I be something else
if I knew something else?
Would my dialectic
determine what my soul is?
Would the fact I have a God gene
invalidate me?
Oh fish,
swim in my palms.
Oh sky,
give me a mirror.
Oh love,
be at peace.
Oh words,
tell me I am written
by a deity.
My heart is an assemblage of angels.
I am breath in the air,
I sleep like the cosmos
and play scrabble with letters
that shape sand castles
by the sea,
and leave with the tide.