God, The Artist

God, when You thought of a pine tree,
   How did You think of a star?
How did You dream of a damson West
   Crossed by an inky bar?
How did You think of a clear brown pool
   Where flocks of shadows are?

God, when You thought of a cobweb,
   How did You think of dew?
How did You know a spider's house
   Had shingles, bright and new?
How did You know we human folk
   Would love them as we do?

God, when You patterned a bird song,
   Flung on a silver string,
How did You know the ecstasy
   That crystal call would bring?
How did You think of a bubbling throat
   And a darling speckled wing?

God, when You chiseled a raindrop,
   How did You think of a stem
Bearing a lovely satin leaf
   To hold the tiny gem?
How did You know a million drops
   Would deck the morning's hem?

Why did You mate the moonlit night
   With the honeysuckle vines?
How did You know Madeira bloom
   Distilled ecstatic wines?
How did You weave the velvet dusk
   Where tangled perfumes are?
God, when You thought of pine tree,
   How did You think of a star?

                     ~ Angela Morgan