Yahweh the Maker
In the beginning was the mounting fire
That set alight the weathers from a spark
Dylan Thomas
(The epigraph of Professor Miller’s
Finding Darwin’s God)
“Are we really just another species?” she wonders,
Sipping tea as she watches sparrows in a squabble.
“What say the winds within our ancient hearts?”
Mopping the kitchen floor, she moves with her bucket,
Her mind wandering to her husband and his consuming phone.
“A video played backwards,” she intones,
“Would show me mopping dirty a clean, wet floor to dry.”
“To find the origin of species,” mutter we philosophical types,
“We run the record backward with discerning look. Extinction
becomes appearance, and disappearance signifies—what?”
A story I was told by a friend: A man born on the fifth day of the fifth month
Noticed fives, many fives, while growing up. One day as a young man, waking early,
He noticed the time on the clock—5:00 on the A.M. He got up and diddled
Some time away, turned on the TV to hear that the president had asked corporations
To support—and five did, each to the tune of 500,000,000 dollars. He poured
A bowl of breakfast cereal and found some strawberries in the fridge which he added.
Pouring on the milk, he noticed—five. At work he was called into conference,
And noticed at the table—five. At lunch he bought a simple sandwich
And, would you believe it?, noticed his bill was exactly five dollars. Again,
In the afternoon, fives were presented, so he asked his boss for early departure.
Permission was granted, so off to the racetracks our hero flew. At the top
Of the wall was listed a race starting at 5:00 on the P.M. Among the contenders
Was a horse named Cinco, paying, delightedly, five-to-one. Our hero approached
The window, not with five nor with fifty, but with five hundred dollars,
Placed boldly on Cinco. He took a seat in the stadium, fifth row, fifth seat,
And as the clock chimed five the race started. It ran and it finished.
And of course, how else could it happen?—Cinco finished fifth.
“Patterns, people, patterns,” mutter the philosophical types.
“If farmers farm and plumbers plumb,
then grocers groc,” say those with reasons of their own.
“Have elephants always thundered in their herds?” she wonders
as she lets the kiddies out for recess.
And in our measly few,
Has Yahweh hidden his face?
With their flocks and with their herds they will go to seek Yahweh
But shall not find him;
He hath withdrawn himself from them.
Hosea 5:6
(Rotherham’s translation)
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