A Thought On Creation

God stood on a hill at the dawn of time,
Young, as creation was young--
He was blowing bubbles as children do,
And they floated and soared and swung...
A young God at the dawn of time,
Bubbles drifting out of sight:
Worlds new-made: a child God's toys,
Formed for his own delight.

An old God stood on a rugged crag,
And he watched them drifting back:
Some broken and lost,
Some battered and tossed,
And one with hell in its track.
And he sighed so sadly the aged God,
As he gazed at the worlds he had made...
But off on a hill, across the void,
Another young God played.

-- Grace Jacklin (my Grandmother)

wendy@whisperingpath.com


The Whispering Path