08-23-2016, 04:37 AM
God has gone; thank god my flim flam soul can be denied.
No worms nor maggots, the carrion convoy,
grave thieves that steal my flesh and history,
will any longer fill my thoughts with dread.
God has gone; he left the space in which he never was
exactly as he found it. No dusty shelves,
no crumbs on plates gone blue with mould,
no scribbled notes to litter up my life.
God has gone; I sleep alone and deep each night.
No prayers of penance before I lose the light;
and, oh, how good that makes me feel.
To fall to slumber guiltlessly is heaven new defined.
God has gone; and all the jumbled junk he pushed into my life
is lost to me. I do not know and do not care
which parable is what or where, what skewed and false
judgemental threats may still be lying round.
God has gone; I look but not to find Him anymore.
Now I know that when I smiled upon a child,
or held a weakly grasping hand,
or kissed an ancient wrinkled brow,
or soothed a pain with loving balm,
or cheered a worthy besting for another's pride,
or lifted from the sea a cold and fading bird,
and warmed it 'til it flew from me,
or sang a quiet song alone, perhaps,
or in an evening throng,
with friends around a fire,
that this was me,
and what I had been all along.
I never asked for faith in god,
yet knowing he was never there,
how glad I am that god has gone.
tectak2016
edit 1.02
How glad I am...
God has gone; thank god a soul like mine can be denied.
No worms nor maggots, the carrion convoy,
grave thieves that steal dead flesh and history,
will any longer fill my head with dread.
God has gone; leaving the space in which he never was
exactly as he found it. No dusty shelves,
no crumbs on plates gone blue with mould,
no scribbled notes to litter up my life.
God has gone; I sleep alone and deep each night.
No prayers before I lose the light;
and, oh, how good that makes me feel.
To fall to slumber guiltlessly is heaven newly named.
God has gone; and all the jumbled junk he pushed into my life
is lost to me. I do not know and do not care
which parable is where,what skewed and false
judgemental threats may still be found.
God has gone; I look but not to find Him anymore.
Now I know that when I smiled upon a child,
or held a hand that weakly grasped,
or kissed a wrinkled brow above a tear,
or soothed a pain with loving balm,
or cheered a worthy besting for another's pride,
or lifted from the sea a dying bird,
and warmed it 'til it flew from me,
or sang a quiet song...alone, perhaps,
or in an evening throng, with friends around a fire,
that this was me, and what I had been all along.
I never asked for faith in god,
yet knowing he was never there,
how glad I am that god has gone.
tectak2016
Original
No worms nor maggots, the carrion convoy,
grave thieves that steal my flesh and history,
will any longer fill my thoughts with dread.
God has gone; he left the space in which he never was
exactly as he found it. No dusty shelves,
no crumbs on plates gone blue with mould,
no scribbled notes to litter up my life.
God has gone; I sleep alone and deep each night.
No prayers of penance before I lose the light;
and, oh, how good that makes me feel.
To fall to slumber guiltlessly is heaven new defined.
God has gone; and all the jumbled junk he pushed into my life
is lost to me. I do not know and do not care
which parable is what or where, what skewed and false
judgemental threats may still be lying round.
God has gone; I look but not to find Him anymore.
Now I know that when I smiled upon a child,
or held a weakly grasping hand,
or kissed an ancient wrinkled brow,
or soothed a pain with loving balm,
or cheered a worthy besting for another's pride,
or lifted from the sea a cold and fading bird,
and warmed it 'til it flew from me,
or sang a quiet song alone, perhaps,
or in an evening throng,
with friends around a fire,
that this was me,
and what I had been all along.
I never asked for faith in god,
yet knowing he was never there,
how glad I am that god has gone.
tectak2016
edit 1.02
How glad I am...
God has gone; thank god a soul like mine can be denied.
No worms nor maggots, the carrion convoy,
grave thieves that steal dead flesh and history,
will any longer fill my head with dread.
God has gone; leaving the space in which he never was
exactly as he found it. No dusty shelves,
no crumbs on plates gone blue with mould,
no scribbled notes to litter up my life.
God has gone; I sleep alone and deep each night.
No prayers before I lose the light;
and, oh, how good that makes me feel.
To fall to slumber guiltlessly is heaven newly named.
God has gone; and all the jumbled junk he pushed into my life
is lost to me. I do not know and do not care
which parable is where,what skewed and false
judgemental threats may still be found.
God has gone; I look but not to find Him anymore.
Now I know that when I smiled upon a child,
or held a hand that weakly grasped,
or kissed a wrinkled brow above a tear,
or soothed a pain with loving balm,
or cheered a worthy besting for another's pride,
or lifted from the sea a dying bird,
and warmed it 'til it flew from me,
or sang a quiet song...alone, perhaps,
or in an evening throng, with friends around a fire,
that this was me, and what I had been all along.
I never asked for faith in god,
yet knowing he was never there,
how glad I am that god has gone.
tectak2016
Original