John Greening
Planets
Earth
Am I there? Is that my blood in the Thames?
And are all those hustling cells
The ones that I feel streaming in these limbs—
Or do they belong to someone else,
To five thousand million others?
No, they are all there in that brief spin:
My mother, sister, wife, and lovers,
In one micro-chip of veins. As much sin
As You could squash with your thumb.
It's quite easy, looking out into space,
To believe in God. But turn back home.
Aren't there too many hairs for Him to chase?
Page(s) 31
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