To be chosen, preferred, favored
from among the many typed or penned
by Him,
to be selected as a creation
of Creations,
to know this favoritism
is of His own doing
brings light with pleasure.
Gratification being a true piece
of self,
of Him,
of art.
Is there to be joy
in words
or pity for the many
not so selected?
How does the poem know the poet?
He who worked weeks
to trickle a passive single
or wildly, emotionally
swinging for the fence
and finding a home run
from the glory of gut—
if it is sin, prideful sin.
Dispassionate Doubt 