a poem for today

every day i'm still looking for God
and i'm still finding him everywhere,
in the dust, in the flowerbeds.
certainly in the oceans,
in the islands that lay in the distance
continents of ice, countries of sand
each with it's own set of creatures
and God, by whatever name.
how perfect to be aboard a ship with 
maybe a hundred years still in my pocket.
but it's late, for all of us,
and in truth the only ship there is
is the ship we are all on
burning the world as we go.
             mary oliver