dougs digs

once in a while you get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right

3.11.2005

God Is Dead

- author unknown

I of course, would never deny you.
At least not in my former life when you walked with me
Side by side
Like best friends laughing along a beach,
A shoulder to cry on,
Someone to eat with,
And join in your passionate mission with all the zeal of youth.

That was until you changed,
Said goodbye,
Said you had somewhere to go
And said that I, yes I, would leave you.

But no, not me.

Now I see,
It was me who killed you.
Not the religious types, or the political types
Or anyone else for that matter
But me.

I killed you like I killed ladybirds as a child
Trapping them in jam jars
Trying to make them a home with a childish fistful of mud,
A few blades a grass,
Some daisies and a buttercup.
I killed you with the fancies of my philosophy
Trying to make a home for you in my mind
Containing you in my thoughts
Until you suffocated and died.

Like a dead flower crushed between the pages
Of my weighty sacred text
All that remains of you
Is a fragile skeleton,
A dried-out shadow of a former life,
The fragments of you crumbling in my hand..

I never noticed when you flapped your wings
Like a rare and beautiful butterfly
Trying to escape through the grimy windows of a deserted cathedral,
Driving yourself into a frenzy
Until I caught you,
Stretched open your wings and pinned them down
Inside a plastic box and put you on display.
Your still, faded, dead little body,
Merely hinting at a life you once knew.

So now, this is my God.
Dead.

Yet waiting, waiting for the resurrection,
When you will appear and eat with me again
As though you were as real as I am
And then disappearing through walls
As though you were a phantom.
Surprising me as you crawl over my skin like a ladybird
Then fly away as soon as I notice you and think I have you in my hand.
Dancing with fresh luscious flowers,
Sprending subtle fragances in the warm summer breeze,
Darting through the air like butterflies with brilliant flashes of vibrant colour.

Too broad for me to get a hold of,
Too far away for me to touch,
Yet surrounding me, containing me in the expanse of creation,
Embracing me with touches of human kindness
Breathing on me in the gentle wind,
Astounding me with beauty at every turn.

Never again would you submit to my religion,
my Bible or the fancies of my philosophy,
Never again would you live in my jam jar mind,
or be trapped in the pages of a holy book,
Never again would you allow me to show you off,
say I've found you and tell everyone else to look at you.
For that God is dead,
Dead, gone and buried.


"I will believe in the Redeemer when the Christian looks a little more redeemed"-- Nietzshe
|| doug, 14:04

0 Comments:

Post a Comment