Creation Science - An Oxymoron Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Perhaps you ask yourself at times
what drives us humans to succeed.
Do you recall the March of Dimes,
an effort born from human greed?

They say it's faith that we all lack,
I ask you, faith in what or whom,
believers never do look back
to catch the daffodils in bloom.

My pastor sent to me a note,
enclosed was a certificate,
a photo and some words he wrote:
Lord Jesus was no hypocrite.

Yes, fifty years have surely passed,
I recognised myself of course,
In 58 we had a blast
and only Jesus showed remorse.

He says to love your fellow man,
to feed the poor and tend the sick.
My pastor had a real plan
and God himself gave it the tick.

I had, back then, been known to speak
quite freely and with no regret,
I studied Latin and some Greek
but NEVER was the pastor's pet.

We would discuss the word CREATION,
how God made everything by hand.
I questioned that this operation
could truly satisfy demand.

Once introduced to EVOLUTION,
I loved the concept of BIG BANG,
a godless, random execution,
the grin that bared the devil's fang.

My pastor swore (I swear he did) :
'Religion is about CREATION,
CREATION SCIENCE is my bid,
and you, my boy, you watch your station! '

Born when they had the second war on,
he took denial to his grave,
'your science is an OXYMORON',
said I and saw myself as brave.

My pastor died from a small fever,
and his successor's in the dark,
he figures me as a believer,
I am, but just in Noah's Ark.