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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