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God thinks too big, too many galaxies
to count, each one filled with billions of stars
and dramas at each one. God hardly sees
every sparrow who falls or stops to parse
the consequence of out-of-control cells
in a lung. God simply loves every one,
every cell and star, and nothing compels
second thoughts or divine hesitation.
We who love partially, with small design
and small cares, discriminate good from ill
because all of creation is not fine
if we cannot bend it to our own will.
Love small enough to curse a cell or sky
can have strength to grow watching someone die.