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Poem

“I fight the good battle!” I thought:
But a warrior
whether Christ’s or the Devil’s, or Self
is still “A blade held high” demon
of sorts, though the conscious motive
May be of highest righteousness--
the transformation of darkness into light.

The demon
(our second-hand creation)
(manipulating matter
but not the originators),
a recycling of lesser egos
claiming the Formative Light
our own
though pure and complete
before our jealous
acquisition--
Divine relationship denied
(the arrogance of man),
agnosia perpetuated--
our insufferable debate over
that tender-less chicken
or her overcooked egg;

And oh--the science!
We squeeze even our genitals
into a singularity
(the academics juiced answer to all)
when denying the enriching trickles--
the crushed,  the spirit-runny, 
our essence, the immortal soul,
with each bathwater tossed.

When, in our power to create
truly as The Omnipotence: 
from nothingness;
out of canvas yet
uncut from the fabric
of time--
not with warrior knife
nor artist brush
but by faith alone--
by love and grace…
Grace that has kept man alive
prepared to some day make
of sleeping, self-possessed children
fully awakened 
independent
Gods.

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