My blood, my cells, my DNA are but a scaffolding of life.
I’m no different from any creature,
no different from an amoeba
or a magnolia in bloom.

But my beloved self exists between the lines.
My real substance lurks in space between the atoms.
This void is swirling with the breath of God
that He so gallantly inhaled into my nostrils.

My real self is greater than the sum of parts.
I am much more than an idea wrapped in flesh.
I am much more than an abstraction
for I am permeated with his shining.
Without it I’m just a heap of trash.

How can we ever fathom what this means?
Whenever we resolve to zoom in on the void
we see more parts
but fail to identify the substance.

God cannot be reduced to an equation,
a formula, or an effect of mechanistic action.
Of that I’m certain.