"In Villages God Does Not Live in Corners" by Joseph Brodsky
In villages God does not live in corners
as skeptics think. He's everywhere.
He blesses the roof, he blesses the dishes,
he holds his half of the double doors.
He's plentiful. In the iron pot there.
Cooking lentils on Saturday.
He sleepily jigs and bops in the fire,
he winks at me, his witness. He
assembles a fence, he marries some sweetheart
off to the woodsman. Then for a joke
he makes the warden's every potshot
fall just short of a passing duck.
The chance to watch all this up close,
while autumn's whistling in the mist,
is the only blessed gift there is
in villages, for the athiest.
~ from The New Yorker, February 25, 2013