Seat your god gently in a sandbox
with her favorite toys. Step back.
Let her look around, get acclimated.
When you know she’s ready, ask your friend
to place his god several feet away
and see what happens next. Don’t fuss
or intervene; just observe for now.
They’ll settle into parallel play
for starters. Soon you’ll see that furtive
exchange of glances, the hesitant
offering of a shovel, a stegosaurus.
Before long, they’re playing together:
minarets may appear, shrines and stupas,
mangers for baby gods—invisible
to you but not to them. Suddenly
look: like magic, with no warning,
your gods begin to look like each other.
Savor their softer edges, their babble,
the worlds they create together, how
each evolves in the other’s presence.
Forget about theology:
No one makes this happen. It just does.
Simply watch in awe or, even better,
do what your gods are doing: enjoy.
Yes! Thank you, John.
You’re welcome, Pat. It was such a pleasure to work on that poem.
Hope more poeple see this and reflect. We are all one under the heavens – whatever and wherever you believe that to be.
Indeed. Well said.