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The Believer

A poem.

I made a God. I called her Grace.
I said my prayers. I called them pleasure.
Pleasure her way to teach me pleasure.
Pleasure a stream and I a fish. 

I made a God. I called her Grace.
I used no clay, no bronze, no iron.
I used my parts to make her whole.
And then I was part of the whole. 

I found the others. I call them brave.
We laugh in the stream. We roll in the snow.
Our anger grows lilacs, our patience makes teeth.
The universe glows with oxytocin.

The Milky Way is part of the whole.
and we are part of the Milky Way.
The light makes a stream. The two streams flow.
The streams come together and we give birth.

We bathe our babies in the stream.
Babies we made and now they smile
at the God I made who I called Grace.
We say the prayers that are our pleasure.