Create a creator who cradles a child and coddles a cobra.
Who blazes trails but posts no signs.
Whose blue print includes
kindergarden killings
and errant asteroids.
Who makes possible,
in two atoms collision,
oblivion,
yet
juggles galaxies and
multiple dimensions
without a broken plate.
I don’t know how else,
but by faith,
this is no fable.
Cosmos, a mystery book,
with clues to decipher
where ever we look.
Poems by Ken 