Whence From Above Poem by Mike Shanahan

Coming upon a silent wooden scene I thought
To address a smallish bush of lemon scent
And as I succomed
My mind sent reeling
I adressed the the silence thus.

Whence from above you come to deal
And dice with our humanity?
Who gives the right the inter- dom authority
To Ordain the penalities severe
Yours to dispense at whim?

At your displeasure do we burn
Or, lauding your praises
Lift unto immortal bliss
Its’ written so.

So I defy your romp
Through the instant eternal clock
And question such vanity supreme
That casts aside
The precious frailty of your own creation..

Unforgiving Forgiveness.. madness
What Being art thou to behave so flippantly?
I question and bring to bargain thus
Your pleasure with our souls.

Like unrepentant teenager I cast the doubt
And hold the gaze
And cry the tears within, holding back
A yearning lost, never known.