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BYU Studies Quarterly

BYU Studies Quarterly

Keywords

Prayer, Science, the universe, the heavens, poem

Abstract

Oh God,

thou knowest I would rather plough the starfields

into little rows, and weed them by the sweat

of my brow, to clear the land for this next

season’s crop for thy celestial garners.

I would gather every dead star skeleton

for thee, decompose them back into black gold

nebulae for thy hungry galaxies,

let them spread their roots beneath the surface

of thy eternal spacetime continuum.

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