Boggled

We measure people by their skills
At having ducks aligned,
To have an answer well prepared
For any question designed;

We try to make a mold for God,
That he may be explained,
But sadly, he keeps bursting boxes
And will not play the game!

To follow all his different colors
Would be like counting stars;
We’re boggled by the multitude
And cannot reach the mark—

We cannot fit God in our rows,
And fail to read his mind,
But thankfully, ’tis he who’s God—
He has it all aligned!