They say nature never builds in straight lines,
though all that has happened built us
straight into one another.
How can this be called fate,
unless God and nature separate.
But I’m staring into the rivets in this basalt rock.
God must be in the Crag and Grotto.
And in our souls, which culminate
to sing and lift and sing again.
A trip up to the Gorge made me ask a lot of questions. My dad and I used to debate relentlessly about the existence of God. “How could everything just spin and exist in perfect balance in such a way without some external force?”
“But coincidences happen. Millions of years of time happen.”
Were we debating about the same word? God for him was a being– a sort of man holding building blocks. For me, however, God sprung forward as something else. God was a beautiful force that moved through everything. The way that light bounces off of objects into extravagant colors; the way we cycle through our daily lives as planets, stars, galaxies move through their own cycles; the way our hearts beat a steady rhythm that feels connected to the steady beat of a song. These are things that make me feel God, not the man, but the ubiquitous energetic force.
So, why love the rump? Because look at all the complexities that have sprung forth from whatever budded us. Beautiful rounded men women with powerful thickness, and others with sleek intriguing thinness and the cultures they carry, complex systems of governance that is constantly churning and evolving as we practice compassion, the ingenuity that we may witness in plants and animals that have been adapting and honing their craft for thousands of years.
Love the rump, it took a hell of a lot of coincidence for it to land on your particular backside.