A rookie outfielder up at bat smashes a fireball 400 feet
into the air, reaches for heaven, loops instead, half ellipse,
into the screaming crowd, dancing in the highest bleachers,
the ball falls, merciful manna, into a fan’s outstretched mitt.
A wide grin is plastered across the face of the runner
as his feet hit each base, his joyful legs tracing this most
precious diamond, his right hand index finger raised skyward,
blue eyes peer up into the clouds, he crosses himself,
as if God or some other Heavenly Body as just blessed
him with a homerun. Watching, I wonder, doesn’t God
have better places to place his attention; bombed-out cities
flattened by war, famines raking continents with drought,
fires claiming forests, homes, across the world, But maybe
God is weary of man-made and natural disasters He can’t
do much about anyway, too much time, energy expended,
then they just happen all over again. He turns his Divine
Gaze instead to the local MLB baseball field, the underdog
team late in the season is losing again. His Eyes seize
upon the rookie, shaking and nervous, directs His Supreme
Energy downward into the sinews, the muscles, the clenched
teeth of this young player, Hallelujah, he hits a Holy Homer!
God smiles, claps his hands, thunder roars, God feels like
he’s finally accomplished one solid, good thing in the world.
My Pleasure, He tips his Top Hat to the rookie racing around
the bases emanating Glory, dark clouds in the heavens part
in Praise, God and the rookie’s fingers reach out and touch,
a Michelangelo moment, lightening flashes across the sky.