Song of the Builders

On a summer morning

I sat down
on a hillside
to think about God -

a worthy pastime.
Near me, I saw
a single cricket;
it was moving the grains of the hillside

this way and that way.
How great was its energy,
how humble its effort.
Let us hope

it will always be like this,
each of us going on
in our inexplicable ways
building the universe.

keywords: god, insect, humble, building, song

Okay, Mary, now I'm stumped. I am not sure what it you are hoping for here: that we remain humble? that we use lots of energy? that we use our creative individuality never knowing how or what we are building? Though I don't know what you are thinking, I hear the song in how you think about God and then translate that wild beauty into your poems. For myself I am haunted by the ache to build something that will really, really help the beings of this universe. What I tend to forget is that if I am singing energetically, even if the song is sometimes that of grief, as long as I do so on behalf of beauty, somehow, someway, I am inexplicably building more space in my heart and in my life, and hence maybe in the world, for others to add on their additions so that we create a way of life that will reduce suffering and aid flourishing. Let us hope this is so.

What are you building without any blueprints?