Classic Poem

This god who has gaped ever since we created him
and shrined him in the sky
I wish he had never spoken
but only opened his heart and arms
to embrace those
who created him
and made him a legend.
I wish his shadow had stayed
uncolored by the world
his silhouette had remained
untouched by motion,
his words had lasted
without being eaten
and re-eaten.

Instead he mutinied against his creator
wanted him to be the created
and man was lost between two creations —
his creation of the god
and the god's creation of him
still, creator and created
became a single destiny,
marching as one
toward a new creation
that is still beyond us.