I bend my knee
Praise God! How many rules you make in God’s name
God’s virtue everlasting
By your rules.
God speaks to you and we obey
I too am a supplicant
Am I not worthy of your voice in my ears?
Aligning the world to your ways
There are no interlopers
You see, you don’t exist.
How silly people are
They find existence overwhelming without a guiding hand
The effort to be without you
I am, therefore I exist
I don’t—need you
You are a contrary to my existence.
Glory be to God!
Glory be to Man!
Glory be to blood spilled in the name!
The name is one!
The name is all!
I am—who am I.
Not so if there is no God
But there are so many
And that, dear friend, is the problem.
In this time of blood and warmth
(Meant I good tidings and cheer, how blood poured forth, cannot be told)
So I repeat (repent?)
In this time, good tidings to you,
When love abounds (why not year round?)
I wish that all were gathered near
In joy and much convivial cheer
This time bodes well (though ill can seem)
For jackets downed (the geese do scream)
Fat woolen socks warm our feet (the sheep, now sheered, are prime meat)
This said, we gather round the fire
(the trees cry out as they expire)
Ah, what a sorry state it is
When joy is but one half
the other undermining
So is the way we have conspired
To hide the misery created
Behind belief that God inspired
Our indignation of people fated to expire.
So be it.
A Christmas tale is in the making
The deer, so charming to our eyes
Starves, as winter’s cold sets in and snow abounds
Too deep to forage in the land.
Death overtakes us all.