The uncaused cause of all being
Is either a name of God
Or the look my son gives me
When I pop in on him to see whatever it is he has called me in to see
Maybe he’s wearing my shoes
Maybe he’s wearing blue high heels and a stethoscope
Along with his favorite princess skirt
Maybe he’s hugging the cat
Whatever he is
Doing
There is just the hint of a smile
The rest of it about to explode onto his face
Across the distance between us
And onto mine
Caused
Uncaused
Undeniably holy
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The truth is in the context. My context involves packing lunches, pushing vegetables, making beds, washing clothes, lots of singing and dancing, and pretending to hunt Bison. This blog is where I report my truth ... often in verse, seldom in rhyme, and never meant to be vocalized.
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