Who do I Pray to Now?

Despair is rounding fast, ahead by more

than a nose and the race is almost over.

It's been a wonderful race, glad I was here.

The sky is beautiful, the grass and the trees,

a cool breeze, people laughing, eating, dancing,

walking, running, spending, listening, loving.

But little proof of the old God, a lot of evidence

for fifty humanoids way ahead of us.

So many wars and conflicts, the winner is

the side with the best weapons, the best

logistics, the access to resources, boots,

food, the most money.  A box of technology   

does not come with a surprise moral compass.

Be defensive, or aggressive.  Take or be robbed.

Nature does the same thing over and over again

on a different scale and it's all about violence.

Family versus family, tribe versus tribe,

nation, planet, galaxy, oceans versus mountains.

Virus D-37 versus bacterium X-75.

After a billion years of development

the giant intellects of the universe

do cowboys and indians.  – Embarrassing.

Who do I pray to now?

The great spirit?  The holy spirit?  The One?

The Force?  The Board of Investors?

Maybe the Great Bureacrat. 

The Great Accountant.

Take me off your ledger.

I was not asked if I wanted to be here.

I would not attend if I had known the menu.

The universe is a crashing disappointment.

I do not want to be in your records or inventory.

You could say, I suppose, this is my final prayer.

I give up.  I am no match for the truth.

My ability to pretend is limited.

I do not lose on the  grounds I gave up.

Nobody wins.  No winners.  No losers.

Just inventory. 

Who's in charge here?  No one.

Natural law:  Take or be robbed.

I do sit in judgment of the universe and

whoever or whatever made it.

I earned the right to judge. 

If all you've got is fight for survival,

Fight for power, fight to win, you stink.

Let the Great Accountant write in the ledger:

"Universe # B-30: total clusterfuck.

Astoundingly misconceived.

Don't ever do that again."

 

        Copyright 2024, John  M. Medeiros