In the night when you pray in secret
to be unmoved by the tides of suffering,
when you mutter, “Lord, make my heart a stone”
This is the one who invented babies teething, puberty,
who gave us marriage so we would need forgiveness,
who made long life bring us back to infirmity and
simple-mindedness and diapers.
Each of us is a babe, splitting to admit new teeth.
There is nothing for it but to suck, ferociously,