God who walks in the cool of the evening in the Garden?
God who enjoys the perfumed dusk and the revelation of the stars?
Or God who punishes the descendants’ descendants for the crimes
of their fathers? (The one who flooded the Earth in a holocaust.)
Which one are you going to sing songs of praise for?
Singing songs for cells imperfectly formed.
Praising him – beyond comprehension – for incomprehensible things.
Or thanking him for a mind that understands that life is a puzzle –
one about pain, one about love –
which it has no capacity to solve.