Early morning sunshine and coffee;
quiet to read, reflect, remember:
Memories of unmerited mercies are little things –
Atoms of joy –
Are they stable?
Then, early morning headlines explode;
they back up what Solomon said,
Hard hearts make mean rulers, and lousy friends.
Texts, emails — news from friends:
Worldly sorrows are like atom smashers.
Then something even smaller destabilizes the calm:
the seed of my sin is a derailing quark.
Where is a binding force – to hold what life would split apart:
But, God. . .
Who built each atom,
and sees what I can’t know,
Yet, still makes time for me–
Have we made time for Him?