Posted by
Buffalo Gnat on Wednesday, October 28, 2009 2:57:04 PM
Debarking from the Beagle after crossing a lifeless sea,
I opened up the book to search for grace and theodicy.
For a score, maybe more, I followed a hopeless scent.
Wasted time, such a crime, when many sins I must repent.
I could blame Charles, make excuses, for leading me astray,
But the guide was I, open eyed, never shut perchance to pray.
A fool's logic and sociable sloth were ever by my side
As we walked the trampled path, provocative forks never tried.
So lost in worship to a numbing theory, I denied His revelation
That I was not a toss of the dice but His holy word's creation.
Throw the dice, throw them twice, throw them eternally.
Still chance could not make DNA, much less a bumble bee.
No ship with boards on which to fall will I ever sail again.
I wish more in an afterlife than to room with such as Lenin.