Remember your creator in the days of your ignorance …
Jehovah spoke to the wisest man on earth and said:
Who is finding fault with me?
Come here and prove it.
And the wise man said:
What can I say against you.
I put my hand over my mouth.
Yes I have said a couple of stupid things.
I daren't speak now.
And Jehovah spoke in the fury of a storm, saying:
Stand up like a man!
And answer these things:
How can you over-rule my decisions?
Would you make me look stupid?
So you can look better than me?
Can you reach out to infinity and beyond?
Can you make it thunder with your voice?
Well then, deck yourself out, please.
With my authority.
Clothe yourself with dignity and splendour.
Control the fury of your anger.
Seeing everything and judging it for what it really is.
In comparison with everything else.
And control all creation.
Measure the good, the bad.
And the nothingness in between.
Sort out the wicked, in every aspect of humanity.
Grind it all and grind it small!
Cut every edge to the most intimate centre of creation!
Go to the boundaries of the material universe.
And measure the tiniest shred of the smallest part of the smallest atom there.
And make sure that it is in the exact spot.
The centre of balance for life on earth for humanity!
To a time indefinite.
Bring out your ideas of justice and let me see how well you did.
And let me commend you.
For then you really will be a mighty man!
Here is the tornado.
That I made it as well as I made you.
It tears the grass out of the ground.
Root and trunk
Just like a migrating herd.
It's power is in its hips.
Dynamite for tendons in its belly.
With a truncation of a huge tree it bends down.
Its tail weaving mamatus as sinews in its thighs.
For a skeleton it has tubes.
Proof against the night.
Wrought against the frozen waist; ironic.
The merest beginning of the ways of God; the one that controls its sword.
One mountain stretches out to another in its birth pangs
And as the trampling of numberless herds in heat;
As wild things stampeding.
Its pangs are.
Can thorns snare it?
Can it be mired in swamps?
Maybe a multitude of trunks swallow it in the densest gloom
As it reaches forwards to cyclosis.
With its debris:
Thorns of barbed wire.
Spars of ice fall from the stratosphere to surround it
Like the torrent valleys of god.
A mere taste of creation;
Running against the rivers in flood
With waterfalls for teeth
Staring against all who see it and weep.
Who is going to put a string in that bow
What can you pull out of the reservoirs of the crater lake?
Can you put a rope around a triple point?
Can you suck out magma with pumps?
Get a line around its tongue?
You can't even put a stick in its nose.
What drills will you bore into its vents?
Will it cry to you for mercy?
Will it speak softly to you?
Will it offer you allegiance?
Will it conclude a covenant with you?
And become your slave to time indefinite?
Will you cage it like a song bird,
Or will you bind it for your daughters?
Will multi-nationals bid for it?
Will they divide it up for trade?
Will you fill its skin with harpoons,
Like a whale, with spears?
Raise your hand against it and you will remember the battle.
You won't do that again.
Look! It exceeds all explanation
Who can forecast anything about it?
Even Weatherlawyer will be disappointed.
Hurled down, disconsolate at the mere thought.
What super-powers can stir it?
Who is it that can hold his ground before this son of god?
Who has given it anything to demand reward?
Under the heavens it is Jehovah's.
He isn't hiding the engineering.
The matter of his mightiness
In the grace of its proportions.
Who has uncovered the facets with which it is clothed?
Who will enter its double jaws?
Who can span the chasm of a face none can open?
The very teeth of its entrances are aweful.
Furrowed scales enclosed, stupefying
Battened with a cement seal.
Close-fit octahedrons, admitting no air, super-glued;
Grasping one another, insuperable.
Phreatic eruptions flashing light
Its irisis are the beams of dawn.
Out of the caldera lightning flashes,
Molten debris fountains out.
Like smoke out of its nostrils
Its soul ablaze,
The spirit of ignition.
The core crystalises the epitome of endurance
Before it leaps to destruction
Then its flesh enfolds everything, every mortal thing embedded
Embraced forever, all ingested
As a casting upon the mountaintops, immovable.
The heart of stone.
The mill of god
In its spell bewildering.
It can overtake nuclear powers and swallow them whole
Nothing formed by man is its equal
It regards armour as straw,
Plated steel as punk.
What weapons can touch it?
It's missiles are meteors, washed to nothingness in the night
It salts its own ground with the pylons of war
It gurgles with reinforced pillars bristling in its belly
Spewing the deadly weapons of industrial might like a sewer
Its boiling cauldrons… mere pots and pans
Flaring the oceans, seething and searing
A glowing trail shining behind it.
Clouding the depths of wisdom
In the wake of this planet's dust, there is nothing like it.
That which is beyond terror.
Above all and beyond enshrouding.
It is king over all majestic phenomena.”
And the wise man said:
“I have come to know that you are able to do all things,
And there is no idea that is unattainable for you.
‘Who is man, obscuring wisdom with ignorance?’
We speak like fools.
Amazing ourselves with our own stupidity
Things too wonderful for us
Stuff we just have no idea about
Now you, listen to me
I will have my say:
“Question god and let him tell you.
What we have all heard is hearsay
See for yourselves and then take it all back
As for me,
I repent in the fall out.”