than I; all worlds, all beings,
are strung upon me like pearls
on a single thread.”
Lord Krishna, Bhagavad-Gita
St. Ignatius throw away your rosary!
St. Hubble has spilled
a million pearls across the sky,
strung them on the thread of night.
Eagle Nebula, hovering…
spawning a skein of eggs in her galactic draft,
stellar incubator hatches such faith,
something bigger than the galaxies rises,
a column of thunder like muscled fist,
Lord Shiva’s erection
pierces the haggling pantheon
of sixty million deities,
scattering like marbles
before the shaft of light...
Modernity has joined the dark ages.
Observatories are cathedrals.
I worry each giant bead in prayer
between doubtful fingers,
and sleep under a newer testament.