God, you made some amazing stuff. The snow shows everything in a new light, but it’s amazing all the time.
Gravity, wind, photons dappling my carpet. My iris, my fingernail, human relationships. You made them.
You must love intricacy.
Why is there so much of everything?
And so little time.
Please let me live long enough to see some more.
You made the people in my life, you made the idea of people.
What can I understand of you?
That you, too, are people?
How? In what way?
Let me see your iris and I will understand.
But no, I’m scared. I take that back.
Can I see your fingernail?
Can I watch your forehead frown in amusement at me?
Do you love me? And why?
Why can I give so little of myself to you,
when my self is so much, and you are so interesting?
So complex. So many thoughts there must be in your head.
So many expressions sharing the wrinkles around your eyes.
So many people in your hands.
Why can I give so little of myself to you?
Why do you tolerate that?
How did you make light?
How do you feel right now?