Even If God's Absent
If God stinks like red herring and our souls do not exist,
if every star’s an ember that will only burn awhile,
if ‘Big Bang’ falls back on itself, reflects to make a point:
are Redwoods nothing but a weed that’s past the awkward stage?
Yes, even if trees’ flowers might bring fruits or nuts with age,
their fragrance mocks rose petal’s pride, Spring’s leaves can disappoint
young lovers lying veiled by shade. Fall’s colored leaves beguile
like drifting butterflies whose stuttered flights ease stress, persist.
If future glaciers liquified our hearts, fueled winds of change,
if global warming froze desires to entertain God’s will:
evolving ‘fits,’ ‘dead ends,’ imply Creation isn’t God?
Is Grace a hoax some devil cooked up thinking we’d object?
Some say God’s absent! Is it me? I count such wisdom strange:
“I AM!” BIG BANG! The plus and minus, add to zero, still,
should things collapse. “I AM” went where? ‘Creator’s’ gone? How odd!
I see you smile and give you mine! Time ends: “No laugh! Respect!”
Brian Johnston
9th of December in 2020
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