Juggling God's Time

Each heavenly day
I have become a wistful juggler of God's time.

Even when the temperatures plummet
in the beautiful varnish of Vermont snow
I feel drastic thoughts
of green and apple blossoms
so thick with love
I nearly choke on them.

Today I grovel
in my prayers and talking to the heavens
while the sun sets pink and golden
with more truth than reality can handle.

Here is where I toss the balls in the air
all at the same time
and see which ones I can catch
and throw without effort
into the weightlessness of nothing.