Slice Poem by Bill Grace

Slice
In moments of doubt I ask;
What if we are a book with out author?
It does not change the stars or ocean
The mountains of fierce peak will still stand
The wind will still blow, the dog chew on his toy
The cat recline in territorial splendor,
Electrodes in my little brain will fire
These words to sensate splendor.
Left over noodles for lunch.
One friend with back surgery in the early morning hours
Another friend who has lost his mother
Suddenly the sufferings of Jesus
With God only as a hope - is enough.