if God is the mighty engine of Newton
or perfect embrace of Saint Teresa
the wellspring of compassion
in Gautama Buddha
or endless reproducing of life
from smallest viral urge.
All I know about most anything
comes from you, good mothers,
such as, one chooses where to cut a sandwich,
the other chooses which half.
But, for the rest of truth,
I only feel a yearning toward it
an obscure steady pull
like an emptiness needing to be filled.