Science is the study of God,
and I, with squinted eyes,
studied avidly.

I saw how He molded you
of dust and DNA
and you evolved into a beautiful,
delicate creature of miracle and perfection.
Yet the portrait I had painted of humanity,
geometric and opaque,
was of body, not mind.
Casually blinded by beauty,
I had merely seen your reflection off the glass.
I had forgotten your face, weathered and weary,
turning with hope towards distant horizons.
I had forgotten your soul, hanging delicately like
a gossamer vine of Babylon, and your
confusion as you gazed at me with those inquisitive eyes,
and I, unprepared and unarmed,
delved into the vertigo.
It was not until then I saw that I,
fool that I am,
had been praying for the end of all things
while you
had been praying for the
beginning.