All There Is by Ken Hines

All There Is

God is like a poet, Kierkegaard once said to
the confessor’s ear of his journal, turning the universe
itself into a glorious poem, still unfinished after 14.5 billion years
as the author awaits the next creative eruption,
hoping he can top the delicious irony that
atoms in your thumbnail are also the stuff of stars,
which makes you kinsman to the heroic shapes staring down
on you as you take out the garbage Monday nights. Imagine
doing all of this without words or punctuation, instead fashioning
it from an alphabet of earthquake, avalanche and flood, figuring
the audience will pick up on your near rhyme of love and grave,
will see that all there is, is in the poem, including the reader
who feels changed somehow, the way daring poems often leave you.

by Ken Hines

Editor’s Note: The blending of faith and science in this poem lingers with the reader (as the last line suggests), because to be a poet is to give meaning to the things that are often indescribable.

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