The God in the sky cast his eyes down
with no small difficulty; for it is hard to discern the world below
when it is both spherical and so far away,
not to mention that to see under such a frown
with mighty Stalinesque eyebrows hindering sight.
Yet from the cloud he had chosen to sit upon that day -
a strong one was required for the golden throne -
he managed to discern the poor little creations into whom he had blown
the breath of life so long ago,
the poor little creatures from whom he had flown
but no, he was never with them.
Once, in the form of a man, he had descended from above
and spread a message of peace and love,
a fruitless mission, all in all,
for who of us can comprehend such a notion
when in old age we drown in depression
and have grasped only fragments of passing love,
and as for peace, not even a glimpse.