On God And No Grand Design Poem by James O'Connell

My choice was not easy to make,
I could have made them unfree
And not let them pluck forbidden fruits.
But they would have lost a golden spark,
They would not have seen their nakedness,
Or distinguished wisdom from knowledge.
I left them free to abuse me,
Worse I left them free to despoil others,
And whatever my hopes, I knew they would.
Victims may urge sackcloth and ashes,
Those gloriously free may sound the trumpets.
Yet since the grain and the chaff cling,
Let no one sift them until the end.