1
You made me first
From ash and dust
Death be my dole
Eternal soul
Condemned to sin.
With what free will
You made me ill?
By birth, impure
With blood as cure
Of slaughtered lamb.
The father sinned
The child denounced
Beholds in awe
Is this your law?
In Adam’s fall
Did sin we all?
2
Ah, you again?
Not one, but two
Not two, but three
And three, yet, one?
One of many.
Competing gods,
Of warring tribes
For land and men
They ruled us then
You rule us now.
Successful, yet
By slaughter great
And plunder, gained
A vast estate
Of earth and souls.
A gruesome fount
Of strife, for us
Infidels but
For chosen few,
A jealous God.
3
What height from whence
We fell, or sank
To depths of vile
Unmeasured since?
You sit “above”?
Above what? Pray,
To which we stand
Below in scale.
A point are you?
Or if a mass,
Enthroned in space
Are dimensioned?
Else, a person
Like us, but extolled
By courtiers
Winged, on payroll?
4
And praise they must
Your unsurpassed
Resourcefulness,
In every age,
You won the plot
Through pests and droughts,
Floods and fires,
Rocks and boulders,
Swords of iron,
Guns and cannon,
Inquisition,
Then, armored tanks,
Now votes and seats.
Your church prevailed,
Your party rose,
Your nation won.
5
O high unborn!
You were re-born
Thrice at least in
Abraham’s tribe
With varied names
And fables all
Were thus, in course
Exchanged among
Leaders of men
They took their turns
And rushed to claim
You, as their own
The rider was
That each had heard
The last of your
Most secret word.
6
An ancient thing
You are, no doubt
A being or
Compelling thought
Requiring us,
To find you, where
You are not found
The sign that showed
On floating clouds
To Constantine,
Three liquid streams,
In tattered shrouds,
A wooden spear,
In fragrant oil,
Consecrated,
In wine and bread.