… and out there, among the reaches of infinity,

float skin-flakes from Gods finger-tips.

Drifting there since Divinity

was a little child skipping stones across streams of eternity.

One flake scraped off,

from Her pinky,

perhaps,

on the rough edges of a boulder.

(A remanent of one of the many Big Bangs from back before.)

It makes only one hop on the water, then sinks.

(Even She can’t make a stone that’s too heavy to skip

skitter on water!)

But the flakes still drip droplets of Her blood.

Maybe that big clunky boulder became Jupiter

when it plopped down into its own spot

in some gravitational evolution.

A star capturing a few pebbles and clumps of sand, spinning by.

Like that turquoise marble over there, third from the sun!

All the captives in the great net becoming

our own rotating, revolving, home-stead,

each dappled by just enough droplets

of Gods life-creating-blood

to become,

for now,

hydrogen or oxygen

or a platypus or photosynthesis

or a cock-a-roach!

Enough Divine blood-energy

to bring into being

the Amazon Jungle

or to populate the Serengeti!

Or to enliven,

happily,

you

and even,

me!