by Jeffrey Essmann
Some pray unto the Universe (A bunch of gas—or even worse: Just cosmic dust sucked into holes Where physics’ laws lose all control). They seem to like that it’s abstruse And otherwise of little use Except to prompt a vague-ish hope, Enough to read their horoscope. Call me passe or overripe: I like the strong and silent type. I like a God who knows his way Around the universe enough to say, “If there’s a day, if there’s a night, It's all because I wanted light.”
Jeffrey Essmann is an essayist and poet living in New York. His poetry has appeared in numerous magazines and literary journals, among them America Magazine, Dappled Things, the St. Austin Review, U.S. Catholic, Grand Little Things and various venues of the Benedictine monastery with which he is an oblate. He is editor of the Catholic Poetry Room page on the Integrated Catholic Life website.