The women speak of God
as though they know him well.
He is a tame creature
they invite to tea.
He sits at their table,
his finger crooked in just the proper way.
They congratulate themselves on their catch, this guest
they are certain is theirs.
Watching them, a gray
mouse of doubt grows
as it feeds on me.
Yet I reach toward you, even
through this darkness, reach
knowing you are a cataclysm,
an apocalypse
which no small,
boundaried world,
clipped and safe,
could possibly contain.
by Maria Mazziotti Gillan, Copyright 1983
Maria's Official Site is at MariaGillan.com and her books are available at Amazon.com
. Her latest publication is the poetry and art collection, The Girls in the Chartreuse Jackets
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