Enough Trouble Caused

When we began to put the gods in myth

And language of the poets, transcendence

Died. This literature became the smith

That pounded, flat, godly ascendance

To make them jewellery foil for our minds.

They used to be so coolly far above

Us that they spoke to us through riddles, blinds,

And thickest curtains, prophets offering love

And loving threats (the worst). Now history,

These beings once were far outside the blood

In bones and now the gods are mystery

Who come, if at all, like an inner thud.

..Where have the gods gone to, the ancient, high

….Ones? Don’t return. Avoid Sinai.