three strings hath my steinervortzel

 A butterfly is enough reason to believe in God.
If there was only one butterfly in the universe, it would still be enough reason to believe in God.
I've heard people who believe they received intimations about God or spiritual consolations from him through butterflies.
It's happened to me.
I was talking to a girl in a cafe once and asked her did she believe in God.
After a pause she said: "Yes. Yes, I do believe in God."
Instantly a lovely blue butterfly came floating down from the rafters of the cafe and alighted on the lip of her tea cup.
The butterfly stayed there a moment, then fluttered against the window pane beside us for a bit, then went off.
A few hours later, while I was walking alone in the fields, a similar blue butterfly wafted by.
I don't think I've seen one before that day or since.
There's a woman in my town who told me she felt she was getting a sort of greeting from her deceased husband through butterflies.
I nearly fell off my chair because I too had received a greeting from him, even hearing his voice (in my head or my heart I don't know) as a butterfly flew around my kitchen.
Someone who lives overseas told me she believed she got a greeting from the same man via a butterfly after she had her baby.
A butterfly is saying by his being, that God made the world.
Ditto robins.
And don't start me on daffodils.

a study in character

Quaffing a coffee in the Silverware cafe Newbridge.
A girl walks in.
I glance up.
She is quite striking.
I am thinking 'I know her,' and so look at her for a moment longer awaiting recognition.
She meets my gaze directly.
There is neither rudeness nor invitation in her eyes.
Her look tells me nothing.
But she does not look away.
I realise she is the socialite Amy Huberman, married to an Irish rugby player, and also famous enough for television and film work in Ireland.
Now she looks away.
She has done nothing wrong, no vanity, no badness in it.
And neither have I.
But I think I understand something.
This is a girl living a life where no one, but no one, who glances towards her by accident ever looks away before she does.

on failing to write a poem

you are a poorly written piece
excellence is rare but i demand it
and since you have failed to reach my standard
i consign you to the waste paper basket

wait cried these words
not so fast
lest you act in haste
and are left aghast

it is true we are a poorly written piece
in your bland assessment you are quite right
but we are the only poorly written piece
which you have written tonight

and since twas true
as sins forgive
i retrieved the paper
and let him live

pardon me but your atheistic cosmology is in my primordial soup

Sometimes when postulating what they romantically call a God Particle, atheistic scientists will actually measure a brief flicker, an output, a magnetic variation, or an electrical resonance, on their inductive oscillosopes (ie whatever devices they have designed for the purpose of finding whatever they are looking for and which invariably tell them whatever they want to hear, cf the orbital telescope that photoshops lovely imaginary images of the birth of supernovas, cf the observer affects the thing observed, cf proofs by induction) and they will conclude that what they have just now deemed a measurement indicates the presence of a sub atomic particle.
The should nonetheless resist the urge to worship it.
The Higgs Bosun Manifold is the flying spaghetti monster of transatomic physics.