In the end
We have become our own gods.
We write our own rules, make our own way
imagine our own religion and our own connection
with the universe and the force
designed to our own specifications
and dimensions
to suit our own devices
We answer to no-one
like a man sailing out over the cascading edge of earth
into an eternity of bliss
A heaven of cocktail parties
and family reunions,
vacations to Yosemite and Niagra Falls
We sit in our armchairs
the god of fortune and finance,
the god of love and war,
the god of time and space,
harmony and balance
Adding up our bank accounts
remembering our lovers
turning the pages of old photograph albums
and fast forwarding the videos
Without so much as remorse
or conscience to guide us
Knowing only what we see, hear, feel, taste
take up and use and discard,
filing away the important documents
and meditating away
the pain, the fear, the anger the sadness
as if it didn't matter
in our own little corner of the world
Where we sit like a god
with no-one to answer to
A god of good and plenty
A god of a box of good and plenty
|
Author Notes
This is a poem about the "me" generation and the mind set it has created, the consumer culture and the emphasis on self gratification that has carried us away from the idea that we are born servants of each other, and of God. In our time, we have basically declared ourselves our own gods, and invented our own spiritualisms to make us feel we are 'good' people and deserving of our self absorbtion; all while we ignore of dismiss the people around us and the God who created us for His glory. estory
|
|
