Poetry :: Motionless Lips

Michael N. Audenaert

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Motionless Lips

Almighty God, what I saw, what a fake
Those eyes and those hands, that unmoving face
Chisled in stone, or carved out of wood
Made by the hands of men long deceased.

What a snarl! look a smile all fixed in its place
Erected, supported, "our god 'll not fall!"
Unseeing, unhearing, petitioned again
"Look here's your god, I made him myself."

So many prayers, yet all are unheard,
Wafting away with the smoke from their sticks
What money, what time, such devotion all wasted
On unhearing ears, on motionless lips.

Look! Upon high lives one that is true,
Not fashioned by men, not fixed in one place
All powerfull, all knowing, and still in control
Not created indeed, Creator is He.

What Justice, what Wisdom, what Glory untold
Wrath beyond measure yet Love without end
Bountiful Mercy, the Soveriegn of all
How foolish our gods, when set next to Him.

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