The Baby Has Grown

Grown? Yes. Big and proficient Religion the father of being Old-coming the days prior To all flesh heard of Then was a baby born Born on palms, crying and writhing Without way, merry and say This was the beauty of days ancient Seeing nuclei of mystery and greatness sprout And religion carried the thing undefined Round and around, heeding and feeding it It cried often and wronged often And was often exonerated a thing minus brain Now grown it is Respect, honor and reverence of old no longer The hands that fed it in past Has it licked and bitten It’s turned a beggar without gratitude To carry religion places absurd Of philosophies heathen Whereof it wasn’t taken young Like the earth being born of the universe Has learnt to bear the universe Dumping it into the Pacific Aaaah! A rhetoric eternal The predator will die before the prey Recover your uselessness man How you began in the flesh And are now given to end in spirit for free What a mystery unveiled There was a way that led you home always When you had home none That’s more reverent than the opportunist that follows the tide In pockets unmannered we’ve overtaken The womb that bore us And man is a servant become master Like a child rapidly promoted to sit on the father’s chair Will the squirrel mock the poor hole That saves her from the craving hunter? Perhaps when the child grows