Oh, Jovial King
Little blue earth,
we might sit on the rim of Jove's red storm
like a girl on the edge of a swimming pool
splashing her feet in the water.
Or like Thomas, we could stick our thumbs
into the atmosphere of the Christ who
let an entire planet pass
through the eye of his side.
But oh, jovial King,
You take pleasure in a little tribe of ants,
in those who fear You,
in those who fear themselves,
in those who hope in Your steadfast love.