Journal

Dogma

He laughs because the word God
Spells dog backwards.
Yet the joke  is on him, for
God’s names are many.
He is & has always been in everything.
Every single D.
Every single O.
Every single G.
So he can take his dogma
That God doesn’t exist,
Spin it on its head like a top,
Listen to the hiss of truth as that word, too,
is flipped: amgod.
Am God.
And maybe one day, in the depth
Of his loneliness & distrust
Of man, self, woman,
When he is wondering
How in the world he could have believed
“Dog is man’s best friend” without also understanding
That you cannot reduce God to dog without
Admitting the reverse is true:
God is man’s best friend, and everything
Exists because God exists…
Maybe on that day (or that long night)
He will spin like that top, turning
To something higher than himself,
Something more worthy,
More clever, more relevant.
As relevant as creation, life, death, eternity.
On that day, his sinicism (sic)
Will be replaced with Holiness.
His doubt with reverence.
His ego with G-O + D.
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4 thoughts on “Dogma

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