Godspeak

Gods plan.
.
Gods plan?
.
Do you think He gives a fuck?

He loves,
He cherishes;
We his Children-
He our Shepard…

The Capitol Letter that begins Our QUESTIONS.

But He,
Him, What?

… do they really give a fuck?

Tell you what:
If I were them? I’d not.
.
.
.

Am I wrong? Blaspheme
In channeling reality?

Lets begin:

I almighty create the ether;
My nothing is substrate.

My bones are matter,
Breathe is energy,
and My heart beats uncertainty.

I created you>
I and not you,
the Stone, the Dust and the Stars.

In a box of sand
I’ve built
a strange and lively stock.

-greedy negatives
-ponderous positives
A finely cultivated herd
where My misconceptions lie.

No. You living,
my true stock
are not the ones who think
or breathe by lung
or gill or wooden tendril.

My stock is more than most believe…

Hardly seen,
not free,
and they… WE… cannot see.

-My being do not breathe,
-My being do not see

We are inanimate.

Beings left to be

full,
strong
and simple in anatomy.

You
here,
cursed to wonder,

--whimper for your bread—

You are those who try to find
My Being in Your head.