We’re only flesh
And blood, scholars scold,
Of fickle atoms and dust
That soon grow cold.
While planets spin and stars collide,
On this blue sphere
We plot and die.
We touch the moon and orbit earth,
(But can’t explain a single birth!)
And all the while God sits and dwells,
On paradise becoming hell.
If things exist but to scratch and claw,
Then what’s the point of minding law?
And if we are, as they say, like dogs-
but creatures of the day,
From Christ’s (the Shepard’s! ) bowl I’ll dine,
And sleep beside my old canine.
And if it’s true - and the rest are lies,
That the rose bloomed once forever dies,
Then, when it’s time
I’ll trust His way..
I’ll turn my back to godless lore.
Then my ashes they will scatter
In the universal matter,
And I won’t be me
Anymore..
Till Judgement Day!
JBS Blackheart
I like it
ReplyDeleteBeautiful!
ReplyDeleteHmmmm
ReplyDeleteWell crafted amigo!
ReplyDeleteThank you. It would be nice to know who y’all commenters are. Maybe print your initials?
DeleteVery well done. Big Joe
ReplyDeleteThanks, Padre..
DeleteThis is an awesome poem. I really enjoy the way you counterbalance the futility of life on earth with the divine meaning of it all.
ReplyDeleteThank you my friend. Your very cogent comments are dead on.
ReplyDelete