The Suicide of God

I – The Day of God

T’was a sunny Sunday morning,

The warm light permeated the bones;

The winds made music with trees and when,

The first screams were heard at noon;

Bodan, the town where God resided,

In heart of every woman, child, and man;

Loved they life, nature, and God as one,

Until God played them with a godly prank;

The children played, the elder waved,

Beautiful morning for Mass it was;

And did every Bodan sang with heart,

For it was special for them and special for God.

For God is this and God is that we say,

God exists or God is Man;

God is nature, spirit or cosmos we hail;

Yet that day they didn’t foresee God’s plan;

The Sun bled red and the sky rumbled,

A locust of brown gas enshrined Bodan;

Mercy! Bodan begged in song,

To no heed their cries availed;

For God is not human, is he?

Better be not for what we are;

A swift, painless exit and a seat beside him,

Wasn’t it our prayers answered at last?

And as to the dust, did a stampede add,

As God slowly declared his plans;

Dug their nails to mother’s breast,

As the children did,

Fade to Black.

Life is Suffering, my children you doth know,

And a gift of my existence did I bestow!

But thy sins though forgiven, forbid me,

From giving thee a place with thy progeny,

In the eternal truth of heaven;

‘I hath hit two birds with one stone’, rejoiced God,

Nay three, with the innocent in heaven;

And to let them be known of their father as well,

To test their faith through this ingenious method.

And so did God command the children’s souls to Heaven.

II – The Return of Man or lack thereof

The brownness thus disappeared, no trace but a golden hue,

Clean as cleanliness could be, godliness was there they now knew;

The children’s pale faces did smile, in a body but devoid of any life;

‘Wake up!’ gently sang the mothers, yet not a single voice could come through;

As the tears rolled by and throats went dry, it suddenly dawned anew,

It was but God’s gift, his mercy, his plan, his to take and his to provide;

God and man’s wrath did know no bounds, until did they see a grieving mother;

For then did men see, that murder, crimes of flesh, is but petty,

That true blackness, of something even God might fear, lies in a mother’s eyes beside her dead.

And the men finally realized that God’s joke was so clear,

Have we not bowed at nature’s wrath?

But only standing afar did we,

That God’s jokes hath made us laugh;

But now that the honor of being audience to the joke was ours,

The only laughter we heareth is silence;

 III – The Song of God

The silence slowly broke in voices,

First one and two then three and four;

Till the wailing reached God’s own ears,

‘Whether the subject or object am I?’ did he wonder

Their imperfect language doesn’t make it clear!;

The betrayal by God was the message he didn’t hear,

Or did he but he didn’t care?

Because the women did unite hand in hand now,

In one final song of reverence.

As the innocent bodies were picked up and cremated,

The men to fulfill God’s unusual wishes,

Is there a reason? Should we fear, love, hate that one,

Can we ever question him? They couldn’t ask.

But no such question arose in the mothers’ hearts,

Now they were resolute, their child to them is more than a god,

This our creator did not assume.

The eerie beautiful summer Sunday, clear now from the brown gas,

Now covered in black the sky was the smoke of the children’s ash.

 IV – Redemption

The Song was a passion of God’s suffering, with the intensity of antiquity,

What was not antique being a new technique, The song of the ritual sacrifice;

‘Oh, A song for their blessed children!’, God said of this new development,

Yet God knows all but he didn’t know thus, for he was the song’s tribute.

There grew a sinister strength, as the women and men united in song,

They mocked God now, naughty children of their father;

For the punishment for the deed they had already accrued,

The mocking song grew louder in cruel laughter,

Crying or laughing or both together? And thus God now got the inkling,

Of something to come now, ‘The Horror!’ said he, quivering.

The defiance in prayer now stood at contrast, with laughing

God thundered, ‘How dare they?’,

But eyes wide open, they stared into his heart,

‘Fools! Don’t they know their place?’;

Now the Funeral song started,

‘Oh! The blasphemy! The Murder of God they intend!’;

‘Burn this holy ground with their skins would they!’

‘Teach them burning I shall for eternity!’

The song now in its final stages stretched,

Hesitancy, struggle, but no stoppage yet;

The struggle made the beauty sublime,

A beautiful song of the dead;

As the breath and heart lose their timber,

As tapered the final stretch;

Slower and slower and slower still,

When God found out the game thus planned;

Does God have Free Will? We ask,

‘Then why is the world the way it is?’

Do the choices he maketh the world better,

How possible if the world starts in perfect?

The answer now we know as did they,

They, who forced God to play his hand;

Man’s Will overpowered him, and joined the song did he,

Of the folly of his actions, for his own children did not know he.

God can never lose, this fact is absolute.

But in winning this game he lost to Mankind

As they slowly fell to victory, and as the song petered out at last,

Collapsed they did, enveloped by whiteness;

Fade to White.

PostScript

In heaven find their children and play, in fields of pearly heavenly white,

Yet God came and smiled as they smiled, below an empty church stood still;

No one to pray and no one to sing, such an emptiness was this,

But God is true emptiness and emptiness is God, is the sage wisdom, and with this,

God committed suicide and played with his children.