gods

Suppose vanity exults creation
Above Creator?
Capture the moment.
Worship the image
As possessing life.

Gaze on the ship in the bottle,
A gimmick,
Devoid of wonder.
Just big enough to drink in,
Merely a sip by comparison
To the soul setting upon the sea
To catch the Wind in its sails
To be carried aloft
In hallowed abandonment.

Vanity thanks its fortune,
And prostrates itself
Before its stars.
No One to thank
No One due worship.
Just another ship in a bottle.
Taking on water
And disappearing ‘neath
Life’s waves.

Rudderless fool
Contemplating the form of things,
Playing with beauty,
As though creating it anew.
A kaleidoscope of folly
Spills on the worldly canvas.

All the while,
God shines forth in His creation,
Only the willful blind fail to see.
Preferring a world of mirrors
To the light and splendor of Truth.

I choose to love You, Lord.
My free will is Your gift.
I can decide Your Way too narrow,
And banish You
From my mind, my home, my life,
And the world about me.

I am free to celebrate gods,
I fashion as my own,
To revel in idolatry,
To exult with the mocking crowds
Making fun and sport of You,
You, Who are “so out of touch.”

You have fallen from fashion.
Your Cross, an embarrassment.
This world demands signs,
And leeks, and onions,
And grande cappacinos.

No, You will not stop me.
Without Your grace,
I can not stop myself.
I seem at times to prefer
The company of men,
All who purport to know.

Truth, though, gives witness
To a milieu
Of blatant braggadocio
With holes,
Through which their errors flow
To seed a field with tares.
For a prideful people
Seeking a rose garden,
Yet only thistles grow.

I choose to love You, Lord.
Be Sun to my darkness,
Be my Light
That I might see.
Protect and command me,
That I might obey.
Love demands freedom.
Freely, I turn to Thee.