I give my devotion
to an ecstasy induced
by observing how

the surface tension of water 
poured carefully
into a small glass

allows the top of the water
to dome slightly
above the lip, thus

revealing itself as neither half full
nor half empty but
more than full 

as physical law works wonders 
without requiring a suspension
of all I know.

Here’s the fingerprint
of a God I can desire:
Gaia allowing for astonishing things

without regard for my particular
presence.  My observation
and ecstasy are beside the point;

my place under Gaia’s skin
is not mine to decide.  Whether I delight
in being here or not is irrelevant.

What matters is not  
that my glass is more than full,
but that what allows it to be so

also allows the water beetles
and skippers to stand out there
on the pond like tiny Saviors

as if it were the most natural
thing in the world
to walk on water.