Fuzzy Dice

Fuzzy Dice

Hanging the purple fuzzy dice
from the rear-view mirror
I finger the still-attached tag
that reads Happy Birthday, Mom,
a jaded child of Eden.
I was a good enough mother.

From the rear-view mirror
the dice dangle, twined with a rosary
and threaded holey stones carved with the grandkids names.
I'm covered for all catastrophes.
Are you ever a good enough mother?

I finger the still-attached tag
thinking of Pascal's wager.
God doesn't play dice with a life.
You roll and She chooses the numbers.
You sin, fall down and get up again.
Was there ever a good enough mother?

A jaded child of Eden
prays with tangled motives.
In the next life I'll roll virtual dice.
A parent's tender mercies can't suffice
with a subtle and intangible God.
I was a good enough mother.