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Doxology
Praise to you, Jester God
Praise to you playing games with how many galactic spinning plates at one time
while our sparkish lives are all jacks and pinwheels
tumbling like kaleidoscope crystals in the afternoon sun
Praise to you, High and Mighty
Praise to you from down here in the atoms
down here in quark-land
where one bare light bulb can keep us from seeing a whole sky full of stars
Praise to you, Forever-and-a-Day
Praise from mortal we
whose hair-breadth hold on a hare’s breath life
thins with ever click of the metronome
Praise to you Goody-Two-Shoes
Praise from us dog-shit-on-shabby-shoed people
we not-so-innocent victims of our own collective and personal crimes
we sorry bunch of petty thieves and grifters
Praise to you, Wiseacre Know-It-All
Dubious praise from us
whose knowledge couldn’t fill a mouse’s thimble
and who don’t even know if we know if we know your name
But take it if you can, Lord God
and recast it by your sleight-of-hand
by your expensive alchemy
into widow’s gold
Scott Coverdale
(posted by permission of the author) | 
