The Divine Poem by Raymond Farrell

The Divine is not compelled
TO speak with the voice of thunder
Or be heard in the rushing wind
When a still small voice will suffice
Nor is the notion to be entertained
That God can be confined
To a small sphere
Orbiting an insignificant sun
When a vast universe though silent
Speaks of the omnipotent and the infinite
The finite mind of man cannot fully grasp
But tries to confine the Divine
To passions and moods
To things material and their creations
For godless men have created their own gods
And in so doing
They do not render God less infinite
Or limit His power
They merely blindly sow the seeds
Of their own downfall
By such blasphemy.