and god created the heavens
and the hells…
maybe there is no hell prepared by god at all?
… that sounds good!
maybe too good to be true?
perhaps that may well be
but maybe we prepare one for ourselves
we are made like the creator
so we create
all god prepares is a table
and the enemy present is choice
the choice between
the one, or the other
the other, or the one
and in our frantic wrath we store up more wrath
and when the plumb bob is dropped
on whom will it fall?
or as it swings to its place of rest
who will it strike?
could it be that because of our stubbornness
our unwillingness to yield and turn
away from us
away to the greater
that which surrounds all
which holds all
and which will not remain unbalanced
the great audit
to balance the books,
to see how these deeds weigh up against each other….
we are weighed in the balances,
according to what we have done
with the gift we have received
on our one hand?
our hand on the one?
maybe god isn’t even really actively involved at all?
perhaps he sits
the vast seas lapping softly at his feet
watching as the sun sets
and the sun rises
at the same time
he has set in motion all things,
even motion itself.
… and we have seized the responsibility for ourselves
wrested from the hand of the great gardener
whilst the saplings were still fresh and the first fruits had barely ripened
it was done
we did it
the first fruits were offered
… to ourselves
…… by ourselves
…. for ourselves
and all hell breaks loose
flick the switch
light will reveal all
but light is not our friend
light always says too much
we can’t hide our motives
in the light
even dark is lit up
light the exposer
who is this enemy of ours?
we still choose
to snatch the responsibility
of distinguishing between the good and the bad
we eat freely from the tree of bitterness
it is good and tasty,
sweet to the eyes
fresh to the tongue
but bitter in the gut
we give ourselves the choice
the heart of democracy
democracy of the heart
and like every seed reproduces
and multiplies after its own kind
each choice divides itself again and again, and again, and again ….
and multiplies until we are divided
and each choice
each attitude of heart
hidden or not
will finally be divided.
on the one side – what could have been –
and on the other, what was, what is …
and as a result, what is to come.
and the distinguishing between
will finally be extinguished
as all merges as our internal globe warms
and our ice caps melt
slipping formlessly into the seas
and like the gods we desire to be
we have decided the end from the beginning
god is innocent
we ourselves have drawn a line in the sands of time …
for all eternity
when time itself will be only a faint memory
and we have decided for ourselves
we have drawn the line
it is no other who draws it for us
with our great pen
the sword of our own symbolism
the symbolism of our own sword
in great calligraphic flair we have built our tower
we have signed our name
it is all in the book
and we are in the books
we each have our own chapter
and of the credits, who can speak?