I’m unsurprised
that mind persists although
The body drops
extinguished. Nothing may
Be perfect but the
Lord. That being so,
Death must be flawed
and therefore cannot stay
The intellect
forever lest we say
Death is invincible
and perfect, too.
I can’t consistently
speak such a way,
Lord. Reason will not let me turn from you.
Nor could I doubt
your being, Lord, although
You did not show your face. God is, we say,
The greatest thing conceivable. That so,
God must exist since absent things, we say,
Are less. Should God not be, that opens way
Are less. Should God not be, that opens way
To something greater: God plus being, too.
But nothing’s
greater. Logic shows the way,
Lord. Reason will not let me turn from you.
And thus I kneel in
hopeful prayer you’ll say,
“Come follow me as well in heaven, too.”
I cannot rise until
you’ve shown the way,
Lord. Reason will
not let me turn from you.
© Harold Anthony Lloyd 2016
The current contents of "The Apology Box" can be found here.
No comments:
Post a Comment