So God it seems is an existential boy scout.
Mischievously striking matches of creation
then tossing them into the either, the void, the cosmos
permitting them to combust; burn wildly or fizzle,
grow warm and beautiful or sizzle and spit.
And after each ignition God turns a back to them
and benignly leaves these sparks to the winds of fate, the random forces,
and the will of each creation to make what they might
out of their moment of energy manifest into their moment of reality.