God is a Child

O God,

Sometimes, I think,

You are a child,

Who scatters the stars,

Across the fields of sky,

In the night.

Then, one by one,

gather them all,

by morn


put them in a bag,

Which shines forth and becomes


And you carry the bag,

From East to West

Never you seem,

Tired or bored.

You never seem to care,

What others think

You are stoic,

You are eternal,

You are benevolent,

You never cease,

to surprise.

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