PERHAPS

What if God suffers not from the remembrance
Of nails and thirst but a lack of confidence
So that all the praise, all the epithets
Calling Him all-powerful, all-knowing,
All-seeing, all-encompassing, all-good,
All wool and a yard wide, ring hollow
Being desperate attempts to shore up an ego
The collapse of which will drown us all?
We will praise You; we will ask Bach
And Brahms and B. B. King to write You lullabies
Rest a while; do not kill us today.