Opening up the mess with God
is the point
where I think
it would make a difference.

Between us
a little more energy
would help.

A little more energy
between us
would help.

We have all these things available
but then again
we have nothing at hand.

Our fingers are feeble,
are fragile,
are faulty.

We point the way with them.
We beckon, we accuse.

The hand of God is made up
of these same fingers.

And sometimes it feels more
like a slap from a bully
or a stop sign from a crossing guard
than a help.