The summertime front-door
caroler
Tells of a spectacle of
ropes and pulleys
Behind the human mind, the
grandest galaxy,
The unexplainable labyrinth
to eternal relief
Inferred from a book proven
by personal belief.
Yours is a bi-millennial song
with one ritual cadence.
The nonspiritual world has practiced
scales
Religiously in the past
two thousand years.
Fresh music sounds sweeter
to our dulling ears.
After all, all are after
Power and control with
divine teleologies.
Power and control with
divine eschatologies.
You say the Creator has
left his mark
And I say you are connecting
invisible dots,
Yet you repeat:
The Creator has left his mark.
The Creator has left his mark.
Humored, I repeat:
At bright midday meticulous
creationist,
Squint, see amorphous clouds bear my initials.
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