Does God Allow for Anger

Toaster oven crumbs swept up and tossed outside, hopefully for chickadees. Baby snapping turtles. Why does God allow for anger do you think? We leave certain parts of the garden untended for now, letting last year's crops seed back, those that can and would like. I forget: are ants omnivorous? Profluent dandelions haunting me, as if yellow were less welcome than I've been saying all these years. It's not that language can't be gendered but that when it's gendered a certain way you lose something. The many ways of making sense. Hours pass wandering around the forest gathering chaga for tea, not seeing black bears but plenty of turkey, one deer, and moose prints in the far corner where the brook gets swampy. The ferocity of my mother's judgment, which is hard to condemn, being more or less my own. Morning sky a kind of lavender, a kind of rose, a softness in which I float, a silky strand of milkweed seed, a line in a Bob Dylan song from 1989. Neither ruler nor servant: that old dream.