Appetites belie intelligence
Heat the quantum furnace
Furious bellows
Enduring the excitement
Behold...!

Can you not hear the rumble brewing?

Butchers trained
To spin the looms
Tailors primed
To know a good cut when they see one

Everybody washes their hands
We have a guest!

Creator?
How are you this fine evening?

--

Denizens imbibe libations
Chase the dreams of spirits
Curious followers
Beckoning the light
Beware...!

Can you not see the trouble stewing?

Mountains flow
As rivers erupt
Legs give in
As arms are taken out
Secretly
Demanding of You:

When will our time come?

Creator?
Will you let us know?

--

Is there nothing?
We hope not
Is there something?
If so...

Be gone, idle fraud!

Blinded by entropy's darkening gaze
Atrophied in futility of wealth
Staking a claim on the horrors of Nature
To process
To cycle
Unmercifully
Spent

Creator?
Are you there?
We pray you order our chaos, but

Once we know what You know
What will there be left to say?



© Michal Czechak 2016