Dialogue - by Mother Mary Francis, PCC

I am glad I thought of philosophers,
God said.
Their strenuous efforts swear in public confession
How my thoughts are not the thoughts of men.

Engineers to pan all stuff of earth
Are good
For witness of my ways' meandering
With casual mirth the sweat of all invention

Artists to keep my archives in good
Order,
Poets to epic major enterprises
Of mine, spread out my glory everlasting.

The whole arrangement I have made,
God said,
Has worth. I like that race of theologians
Turning my diamond, face by face, on men.

Only I wish someone would chance
Along
To marvel at a candle through a window,
Slosh bare-ankled in the dew, and laugh

Because my ballerina gnats annoy
Some larger, graver creatures
No one saw, I fear, (God said)
The mint blade in the gravel.

I know men are so busy telling
The story of me (even if unknowing).
I shall not regret the captains, thinkers,
Doers, talkers, workers,
Even makers. I only wish
(God said)
There could be someone now to notice things
I do just for your pleasure.

And I said:
Lord, take me!

 - Mother Mary Francis, PCC