God, who is the Unmoved Mover,
battles man, deist disprover,
challenging as the unseen Chief
by champions of disbelief.
Said to be Infallible,
He preys upon the gullible
and though He’s lost His market share
for miracles, He has a flair
for getting loyalty from those
with traits that are religiose,
attributing with faith in Him,
or some deistic synonym,
creation, for what it is worth,
of all life down here upon the earth
and maybe in some other spheres,
where mankind may have stranger peers.
No Darwinists believe it’s so:
it’s evolution, they all know,
created life, so God must go
the way of flesh, or melt like snow.
And yet He has, I do believe,
some tricks He’s hidden up His sleeve,
and since He deals the cards, He wins
against whoever cheats and sins,
and even if He didn’t make
us in His image, fatal fake,
and isn’t of the universe
Creator, in my loony verse
I do pronounce Him here acquitted
of being more than Man dimwitted.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
THaTS ThE sPiRit, ...............................