How can you say that there is nothing more?
Do you know where thoughts, art, and dreams reside?
The beauty of nature— a shining shore,
What is there not to adore, all wide-eyed?
I do not claim to know how God appears
Or which version reigns supreme above all,
But it is not for our sight nor our ears
To comprehend based on a simple scrawl.
Yet perhaps it is a naive notion,
To assume a grand order or design.
Using God of the gaps as a potion,
Every little thing can become a sign.
Nevertheless, life on Earth is complex,
For us tiny, insignificant specs.
