I Made a Haiku of God


I made a haiku of God:

brief breath of Godhead

compact as a stone dipping

below its rippling

aftershock, not floating, but


slowed in displacement;

stowed into pocket after

pocket of water,

and then less water.

The stone is my heart

which is where God is.

Its gentle arrhythmia,


the haiku. Inside

the stone is what could be heart.

But isn’t, wasn’t, won’t be.

I watch the edges—

the water, suddenly still.

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