Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Pondering God (poem)
Pondering God
What is
God, I wondered,
and, just at that moment,
as the screen saver revolved
to another image,
a picture of a clown
flashed across the screen.
So, I asked, is this the answer to
my question?
Is this high unthinkable being
just that, a clown, a prankster,
a no good practical joker
leaving us to reap
the uncertain rewards of his fun,
the remains
dreadful or dear
of his puckish, no
more like capricious
and sometimes terrifying
sense of humor?
Are we then mere
pawns for his amusement,
our pangs and our joys
equally entertaining?
The Hindus name the world’s spectacle
Lila, the play of God.
And then, I reflected,
if indeed, we are merely God’s toys,
the playthings of the divine,
who is it I speak to
at morning,
who speaks back
saying these poems
with their honeyed words,
who is with me
when I stand before my Buddha
and tremble?
Jan 16, 2007
What is
God, I wondered,
and, just at that moment,
as the screen saver revolved
to another image,
a picture of a clown
flashed across the screen.
So, I asked, is this the answer to
my question?
Is this high unthinkable being
just that, a clown, a prankster,
a no good practical joker
leaving us to reap
the uncertain rewards of his fun,
the remains
dreadful or dear
of his puckish, no
more like capricious
and sometimes terrifying
sense of humor?
Are we then mere
pawns for his amusement,
our pangs and our joys
equally entertaining?
The Hindus name the world’s spectacle
Lila, the play of God.
And then, I reflected,
if indeed, we are merely God’s toys,
the playthings of the divine,
who is it I speak to
at morning,
who speaks back
saying these poems
with their honeyed words,
who is with me
when I stand before my Buddha
and tremble?
Jan 16, 2007
