Quest For God Poem by Irene C S ClarkHogg

I place my feet upon this path
I face the promised pain and wrath
I say 'Rejoice, why pity me
Who will pluck this apple from the tree.'
I seek you god.


I ask the sages, wise and old
Sift dusty tomes for specks of gold
I search for the answers that I need
This knowledge, tiny, precious seed.
I'll catch you god.


Man, worship me, I am your lord.
Blind faith, blind trust, just heed my word.
But, who put the word within man's mind?
Strange creature of a different kind.
What are you god?


She lived three hours, never knew god's name.
A starving man, a child in pain
A moron, helpless; a child born dumb.
Your creation? Your beloved son?
Our father god?


All good is god, so praise his name
But for evil man must take the blame
The pious shout 'Man's will is free.'
That sounds like opting out to me.
Are you fair god?


You promise heaven, at the end
If to your will our lives we'll bend
Disobey the rules and we will burn
A life in hell, you say, we earn.
A nice choice god.


What man, in three score years and ten,
Can be so evil to his fellow men
Or be so good and filled with grace
To earn eternity in either place?
Any reprieve god?

If my will is free, just as they say
It's your fault I'm bad, I'm made that way
And, if you are god, then you can tell
Why a perfect being created hell.
Answer me god.


I ask, what is this endless plan
Of this being, who created man
To end short days beneath the sod?
Or was it man who created God?