Anthropos Poem by Mary Champion

Supposing God is a work in progress-
like a Lego set that is not built yet-
the subject of a production process
taking centuries of blood, tears and sweat.
And we, we feeble men, are but the parts
that have to self-assemble to become
commander of the cool, creative force
whose might ensures death will be overcome -
a puzzle now required to solve its self,
who thinks all answers lie outside the box.
Confused - unable to perceive the wealth
of Wisdom that assuredly unlocks
the answer to the riddle that is Man-
unfinished God - the focus of Her plan.