Poem from: Coattails of the Saint



Pathetic as it may seem
this entire world sits on a table in a little

spotlight in God’s Throne Room and though actually
nearly microscopic in God’s eyes He totally

cognizant of every gnat’s move sees into our private
windows with so much compassion for our

foibles and the fact that in spite of this we
curse and stumble curse and fall curse and throw ourselves

down elephant roads where we try not to
move with the motherly herd or down the

slick side of an ugly incline foolishly subversive to
not His authority alone but to His

kindness over the little things
that we find so deafeningly paramount

and wish so persistently to clutch onto
even into and beyond death if need be

And that inside this Throne Room is God’s Throne Room
and outside this Throne Room is God’s Throne Room in God’s Throne Room

and here in this spotlight with golden waves lapping it
is the earth with wet and dry both chilled and fiery

turning on its solitary swivel and into the cloudy
drama before Him he sends from time to time

but always on time a few people of all races and
genders to let the rest know of Him in more than

mere words or gestural semaphore but by having
His eyes or His voice or His effective movements

echoing in a small and much tinnier as well as
tinier way His very majestic Presence as

Watcher and Creator and constant Influencer of even the
most mundane of our affairs praise and recognition

being our reverse telescopes directly into His
gaze or directly into the sound waves of His

voice though we might glimpse only one
corner of the table in the Throne Room where the

whole earth suspended above it in its congenial
atmosphere turns at ease even as we try our

might to explode its peacefulness with our
subatomic sabotage of the very fact that

we’re being watched by Him in detail and
through thoroughly loving eyes

3/25/2006 (from Coattails of the Saint)

Categories: Poems