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In God we trust
a coppery coin
winks at me
from the sidewalk
(hardly worth a second look)
yet as I hurry by
I smile, remembering
those four little gems
hovering over Lincoln’s head
“In God we trust”
so simple, instinctive
yet so practical and comforting
as I grapple with the drama
of another harried day
as I seek new venues
for living
“My prayer, some daily good to do
To Thine, for Thee; . . .” 1
and remember
that I’m not
some actor in an
autobiographical play
but rather the blessed child
of my Father-Mother God
with whom is no shadow of turning
and upon whom I can forever rely
1 Mary Baker Eddy, Poems, p. 13.
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