Yakshi, the Indian stone goddess dances
Over those who enter the gate of the Great Stupa.
Feminine, brazenly nude,
Leaning over perilously far,
Exulting in the motion of the dance.

The Egyptian stone pharaoh, Kafre,  
Sits on a throne,
His back straight,
Clothed, arms out,
Perfectly symmetrical,
Balanced and unmoving.  

Two views of the universe:
More like the wind or a mountain?
Ever moving?
Ultimately stable?
Celebrating the flesh or hiding it?
What kind of universe do I believe in?
What kind of God do I believe in?

A god who never changes,
As solid and stable as a pyramid?
Or a god who IS movement,
As unpredictable as the wind?

I once thought he was a mountain,
But for me, the mountain has crumbled,
But the wind still blows in my face.