Playing The Hand Of God Poem by Mark Heathcote

To divert the wind, wouldn't that be good
to turn back the tide and remove the torrent?
Wouldn't that be me playing the hand of God?
Wouldn't that be virtuous, not abhorrent?

Life is a little slow at times pedestrian
but when chaos presents itself, it comes
like a bolt from the blue on a chariot
In a head-on collision course, it comes

Ah, it comes to level the playing field
and flatten our sandcastles, meaningless
We're all standing in its path of stand or yield
inquiring if it'll be redeeming us?

But I wouldn't want to play the hand of God
change-will-come, come as it-must-for-us all.
To divert the wind wouldn't be that good
it would just be another kind of curveball.