Inhale—you are Creation. Exhale—you are Creator.

Here I am, God, here I am. Here I am with the dishes in the sink, the dust on the shelves, the skin on my hands which is drying out and starting to crack. My appetite has gone, without any other bodies to remind my body of itself. I can pray for salvation but my bones know this is all there is....

“‘God did it’ isn’t an explanation,” said Joseph. He got no account for the baby’s chromosomes, No description of the mechanism that Transmuted the divine shadow into royal blood. “‘The devil made me do it’ would have sounded better to me,” said Joseph, Though it never did him...

This is the key to the mystery, The Word became flesh.

I wonder Did God’s heart (I mean the love-mushy, endearing part of God) That part The heart that I don’t really believe in as a thing, With pulses... ANYWAY Did that heart Did it Break just a little; When God realized "Oh no— They have made leaves into underpants!" If God says things like...

Sometimes I offer to make a deal with God. “I’ll tell you about my resistance to prayer,” I say, “If you’ll explain the Holocaust.” God declines to comment, and the lawyers make their prepared statements on his behalf. I kind of hate when he does that. I love God best, I confess, when I...

In what form did the spirit appear to you today, the blossom of a flower, the tug of a child’s hand, the silent twinkling stars, an old woman smiling at the bus stop, a lover’s ­gentle hug, a presence so close to your soul you ­could almost touch it, words of truth formed unbidden in your...

Of course I want the truth, but here’s the rub: Truth doesn’t sit around still as a rock, it breathes and flows and turns inside out. Ever seen a lion in a cage? He paces and glowers. That must be how God feels locked in our little religions. Look how big the sky is, the deep distances between...

It is not old, Yet it comes through the wisdom of the ages. It is not young, Yet it comes through the passion of innocence. It is not revolutionary, Yet it comes proclaiming change. It is not solitary, Yet it travels alone, seeking the open heart. It is not lonely, Yet it seeks relationship....

Over the years your staples have slipped and pages loosened. Here a faded purple crescent of ancient wine, there a smudge from bricks of date paste. But when you speak I swoon....