You tell me,
God can be held in your hands.
That they can only be fathomed
not through the trees
or wind
or the heartbeat of light-
but through paper
artifical organization
and mental manufacture
That the spirit is not
felt through experience
But by being told what to feel.
I like to thik I can look
into every man and tree,
and see a great ocean in us all
built of a love
that once breathed the first heart.