The Gentle God

The Gentle God
 
The tongues and faiths of men and women are
As myriad as our faces.  Each of us
Is born, by chance, in one or other tribe.
Yet over this, we build our heaps of fuss.

We’re riven by religions, languages,
By “races”, classes, occupations, more...
We raise our fences, barb our borders and
We’re never done with all our ruthless gore...

Our families are sundered by our strife –
Our clans dispersed – our tribes, by tempests, blown…
We meet the “strangers”, know that they are us –
And yet pretend that they are not our own...

The nation-states and empires work their ruin –
Our inner demons turned to genies great,
As you and I express our discontent
By heaping blame on those we love to hate.

We humans still have satisfactions small –
But these appear no longer good enough.
Ambition, ego, greed and worse demand
Yet more acclaim, achievement, power, stuff…

There’s Nature, wondrous, bountiful and yet
At times enraged or sullen in her moods...
Then all of our entreaties are as naught,
As death and sorrow mark those interludes...

But then, we’ve men – and women, not outdone.
They've grown in hubris and in violence,
With empires, corporations, warrior-states –
Their mobs and armies and their borders tense...

Our minds have opened up the universe,
Wrung secrets from the stars and atoms, yet
Our wisdom lags, as men create such things
As even devils wish they could forget.

From fear we murder, and from greed we die –
And vice versa, as the wheel revolves.
And yet we claim that this is not a lie –
That humankind, towards betterment, evolves...

Among the gods to whom we turn to pray,
Is there, perhaps, a god of gentleness –
Or goddess of the same – of tranquil ways –
Who’ll answer yet our pleas to end this mess?

Is there a god or goddess, who
Can whisper in a tyrant’s ear, can soothe
The raging mob, can softly touch a heart
Or make a furrowed brow, with a gesture, smooth?

Alas, the gods are our projections too.
Divinities are limited in scope.
Their knowledge, power hardly cover all.
A lesson there – perhaps a bit of hope…

The gentleness within us waits to speak –
But when it does, it speaks with silences.
For when we feel it fill and heal our hearts,
We’ve no more need for all our sentences…

The gentle god is there in all of us.
The gentle goddess – she is smiling too,
As tears are flowing down her cheeks, for she
Is Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, Jew…

2014 August 3rd, Mon.
Brooklyn, New York