Devotions

(Read at the Unitarian-Universalist Fellowship November 20, 2016)

I can’t subscribe to piety,

but perhaps I will be devout,

though I won’t be too specific

about where I direct it.  To be aware

rather than observant is my direction:

sure of the love bestowed on me,

bathed in gratitude every morning,

but less certain of allegiances;

much as in listening to Bach

I am assured of majesty

and confident of eternity

without trying to be exact;

though on some nights I am happy

to defer to the last few crickets

in their song outside my window,

defying the days which must come,

or to a moon so large and bright

that eyes almost conceive a corona;

and so it goes on, this gift

I scarcely deserve,

this wonder that needs no name.