You see that leaf, man?
That dog, that tennis ball
that piece of asphalt?
All the same yet all different!
That's holy! Holy is the curb
and my tennis shoe. Holy is every
eyelash and every flake of skin. Holy
is the sick wan light of the supermarket
and that old woman thumping
the melons two for one. Holy is
the surprise in the crackerjack box. Holy
is that baseball and the thrum of the sea.
Holy the shark's tooth and the wound.
Holy the black hole and the supernova.
Holy the infinite banged out
expansion of our universe which will
someday recollect into the cosmic
cannonball of each and every thing
only to explode again. Holy is
the ten million-named God-Matter
which is us and not us and everything
else simultaneously. Amen.