Like us, but taller maybe

Suppose the world were so small you could walk its horizons, and there were many people but not so numerous there were complete strangers.

A world of fairly close trees, sparse forests, small falling waters, and grassy clearings or meadows, with animals that cower or low. Other animals friendly, even companionable... and then the stand-offish and amusing ones, up in the limbs of the trees, acting as if they owned the ground.

What if, just occasionally, a star would fall and it turned out to be nothing but a small, fragile orb, you could hold in your hand. Curious and pretty but nothing to shout about, nothing to carry around with you.

What if the oceans were small, life-stirred lakes to fish and swim? You could walk around them if you wished.

I wonder if creation were less gargantuan, would I be more amazed, rather than less? It seems I would be more certain there was a land-lord, say, who made this, and gave this to us.

I would walk and anticipate one day crossing paths with Him, the Creator. He would be older than everyone else, I'd have to reason. I'd anticipate he was benevolent. Indeed, kind and loving, for having created and given these things perfectly suited to our comfort and happiness.

How much could he explain? Would it occur to me that not only was this world his creation, but we were also?

Would we call him father, or "mister"?

Wouldn't we be so much more amazed and certain there was a God, if this world were only as large and far as the eye could see? Rolling earth with a cloudy edge and no falling, but just floating into the darkness of space without gravity. (How dull, to float off into nothingness. You wouldn't want to except once, and then swim the space back.)

The world is gigantic. It is a trillion times more complex than in my dream.

This is a fallen world, and it is our world. Its creator has to be deduced, its God sought after with prayers and imaginings.

In the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve can hear the Lord's footsteps. They hear him coming and there must have been ordinary days when this was not frightening but comforting. How they must have loved him like children, before they had their secret.

Ok. Amen. So be it...

(When I stood in Brooklyn Heights and looked across the river to Manhattan I was amazed and pleased that the greatest city on earth looked surprisingly modest and simple to me. A feeling came over me then that God was close, and I trembled.)

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The room was very dark for 9 am. Day-dark with the blinds of the one window shut.

She was holding my alarm clock, which was beeping and a-buzzing. She was laughing, so at first I concluded she'd made it go off, to wake me. Mischievous laugh.

What, is that for me?

"No, I'm just" ...she handed it to me, like 'make it stop!'

Nine o'clock. Holy cow I've got to be at work in three hours... I fell back on my pillow.

Los Angeles radio was still on, last night's wonder of the Internet. Traffic reports to a hard rockin' score.

I wondered if she was shy to turn it off. But that would be odd, she's no guest here.

Still I said , Honey you don't have to keep that on!

"No, I've been laughing at it."

Oh.
That guy sounds like Jim Cramer.

"Yeah He does but they're not talking about ...that."

The news was just coming on. It was about Phil Spector. "Specter opened the door with a gun." said the reporter.

How do you...
They should rephrase that.

She needed to leave for awhile, she said. Must go, regretably.

Oh!
I was already up, one trouser leg at a time.

You could have taken the keys, honey, you didn't have to wait for me.

"I know. I'll be back soon..." She kissed me goodbye and was a go-go, back to her house for a bit.
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It seems I want to develop a persona for each day...and usually I don't.

I went to the kitchen and sat down and, being alone but in love, re-imagined our father again, to thank Him. I looked through the window into the sun-shot leaves of the trees , this perfect May day, and quite simply believed.