A galaxy.

The universe.

Fill your hand with it, if you could,

And drink it down like a broth burning with the fury of fusion.

Still you will not be fuller than with one tiny morsel of bread

And a drop of wine.

How does that work?

How does a word from Him

satisfy more than a thousand pictures from the world?


I watch the blood drip from those hands,

my shame wrestled onto his back and pinned to a tree,

And wonder,

How long until I learn this lesson,

And cease to seek the stars

Over their Maker?


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