The hand of God waves,
wavering sunflowers, shadows
painted strokes of black
caused by the shining of the sun.
The hand of God waves.
We are the funny animals,
we claim our thoughts and territory
blinded little birds
who eventually touch the ground
no matter how fast, high, or far we fly
the hand of god waves,
savy and rehearsed, shallow
breaths of ignorance laced with
lathargic torpor
Into the black I go, as I were a bat
The hand of God waves.