in the middle

The sun rises.
Spring thaw waters
my camas lilies.
The forest rings with birds.
Peach trees blossom.

I may—I must be--

Fuck, I am happy,
plugged in to me, myself, and I.

On the ground.
I look no more to God.
I have turned my face from him,
moved on,
so way beyond.

Wherever you stand in the universe,
you are in the middle of it.
Physics proves this.

Maybe God is standing there too
and he just doesn’t know
yet of his vast and infinite grace.