Varghamn

If God is a Dog

From Becoming Light

If God is a dog drowsing,

contemplating

the quintessential dogginess

of the universe, of the whole

canine race, why are we

uneasy?

No dog I know

would hurl thunderbolts,

or plant plague germs,

or shower us with darts

of pox or gonococci.

No. He lies on his back

awaiting

the cosmic belly rub.

He wags his tail signifying

universal love.

He frolics and cavorts

because he has just

taken a galactic shit

& found it good.

All dogs are blessed;

they live in the now.

But God is all too human.

Somehow we have spelled his name

wrong, got it backward,

aroused his growl.

God drowses

like a lazy old man

bored

with our false

alarms.

© Erica Mann Jong