The Creator Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

The Creator

Lately, I think it has to do with ageing
have been thinking of religions, one can say
Exploring them for the best option, they all fail miserably
To the point, I will call organized faith humbug.
The idea that someone has the key to the truth and
If you don't believe for them, you will go to hell.
My contempt for religions in all its form is contempt
And assault on people's intelligence.
We know now there are other, planet somewhere
Not unlike our and if they are human life with the same
The problem, should we ever get to one of them it would
Be like coming home.
I can believe in a creator of this, call It god if you like
But if the creator has not any conscious thoughts the idea
Becomes meaningless.
Yet, religions have always been their peoples in the deep
Forest of the Amazon had one, the believed in nature
In trees, flowers and animals in what they see and hear.
The missionaries came and preached their god as the only
True faith and by doing so destroyed the fabric of what
They had believed.
I don't know how the universe came into being it is an enigma
that has little to do with the right sort of god.