I am not large, except in belly size.
Within my soul no multitudes are hid.
I contradict myself--am sometimes wise,
Sometimes a fool, always a human being--
Because I cannot keep my own thoughts straight.
If God exists, all knowing and all seeing,
Immense and awesome, immeasurably great,
To them my thoughts would be no awful tangle:
In their dimension all would be quite clear.
But I, mere mortal, have no holy angle
To disambiguate my hope and fear.
I contradict myself, and therefore suffer
Like any other simple, honest duffer.
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