by Anne Sexton

My faith
is a great weight,
hung on a small wire,
as doth the spider
hang her baby on a thin web,
as doth the vine,
twiggy and wooden,
hold up grapes
like eyeballs,
as many angels
dance on the head of a pin.

God does not need,
too much wire to keep Him there,
just a thin vein
with blood pushing back and forth in it
and some love.
As it has been said:
love and a cough
cannot be concealed.
Even a small cough.
Even a small love.
So if you only have a thin wire
God does not mind. He will enter your hands
as easily as ten cents used
to bring forth a Coke.