The Claustrophobic God

Do you remember when
the world was huge
and Man much smaller,
when you were accorded
credit for all Creation?
Those days are far behind
you now, and men
stand tall, defiantly
gazing up between
your messengers so sacred.

Do you tremble at what
is seen by Man beyond
your chosen children,
now objects deserving
not of prayer, but study?
The unknown Earth was yours
to reign, its ends
still far from Mankind’s ken,
but the flat lands evolved
as vellum wrapped around rock.

To you belonged the skies,
when only the chosen
dwelt beneath your cloak,
and believers were promised
an afterlife eternal.
Where now is your Heaven,
pushed far by Man’s
evolving perception,
billions of light years
beyond the Sun and its planets?
When today your flock dies,
it takes each of their souls
almost forever
to reach your domain,
where by science you were exiled.
Such a long, lonely flight,
when mere hours away
lies Hades, its heart
of nickel-iron as hot
as each of your guardian angels.

Once God of all places,
of people and things,
now you’re God of the Gaps,
where, through fogs of new questions,
each day truth shines brighter.
Is it cramped in your hole,
dismissed by free minds
and cast out by reason,
crawling like the lizard
you so cruelly dismembered?

Do you brood like a child
in your dark corner,
as the walls grind together
with each leap of Man’s knowledge,
that fruit so forbidden?
I’d be scared, were I you,
for, when gaps close, gods
diminish under judgement,
demoted from fact into fiction
among thousands of brethren
with their hellfire and thunder,
to mere stains in the graveyard of myths.

 

 

© 2015 Scott Kaelen
Featured in DeadVerse: Poetry Volume One

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