puddles in tire tracks
Through depression
Parker Palmer learned
that God might not be a god
after all
but a wordless creature
way back in the woods,
deep in the base of his animal brain
wanting to live
after all, and
if that's all God is—

And it would make sense
that in a godless universe
spawned from a random explosion,
order arising from chaos,
creatures arising
from warm, shallow, soupy oceans
called forth by no one,
neither planned nor wanted
by any Father or Mother—

it would make sense
in such a universe
to evolve to survive
by evolving a reason to keep living
by evolving in the depths of the being
of every single being
a persistent if often veiled
certainty
that God,
the gods,
Chaos,
the Cosmos,
Gaia,
whatever,
loves us
right here, right now,

and even then
in the dark place
when we can't see it.
Coming through depression,
coming out
of my first major depressive episode,
and the next, and the next,
that's what I saw
when I saw the trees,
when I saw my friends,
when I saw the heavens
opening:
"This is my Son,
whom I love;
with him I am well pleased."

Each episode
has been milder than the last
as I learn anew
the lesson of Peek-a-Boo—
just because I can't see it right now
doesn't mean it's gone—

I see every human,
every deer, every crow,
every bee, every fern,
every aspen clone,
every fungal network

knowing
deep down
they know.

Carl Sagan
knows
we are a way
for the cosmos
to know
itself.

knows
"if that's all God is,
I'll settle for it.

I'll settle for it
easily
and thankfully."