When we think of God, we see an eye
Watching us like some abhorrent spy
What of his touch, his hearing, his small voice?
What his taste conveys and how employed
Larger than the total of sand grains
That form all ocean shores by moon arranged
Smaller than the eyes of ladybirds
And insects humble without spoken words
What is size compared to tangled roots?
What is loud compared to army boots?
What the colour, what the perfect form
To ripple through my eyes with no alarm
What do you here, what vision do you flee?
Who sieves earth and whose the face you see?