The Gods Are Not Large.
But perhaps, the heart does not want to be understood.
Your shadow falls on its pond, and the small fish hurry away.
They have their own lives, not yours, which they love.
And if to you it is anger, bewilderment, grief--
to them, it is simply life.
Their mouths open and close.
Their gills-- they are fed, they breathe.
The gods are not large, outside us.
They are the fish going on with their own concerns.