God came down from his mighty throne, and said,
No longer will I sit above the clouds,
wrapped in mystery, frightening pious fools
with threats of fire and promises of bliss.
No longer will I watch the world from far,
a grumbling cosmic granddad, sending plagues
and testing times to keep them on their toes.
No longer will I spy on every move,
my angel scribes recording every sin,
every infringement of my impossible laws.
From now on you must search for me elsewhere.
The king will walk abroad in human robes:
you'll find me down the pub, or on the beach,
chatting with friends, or lending a helpful arm;
you'll find me sharing the tears and joys of life,
on cancer wards and battlefields and streets.
Sometimes you'll know me, recognise my voice,
singing or joking, offering gentle words,
or speaking out in pain against abuse.
Sometimes you'll glimpse me in a stranger's glance,
a baby's sleeping face, a lover's gaze;
but often I'll be there, and all you'll know
is somehow, unaccountably, that life
has taken on an unexpected grace, a hue of awe,
an echo from the wellsprings of the world.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
