February 17, 2014
God is an Emptiness that we fill with us, and then worship.
The wind does not tell me of the man who fell and died; its breeze and bluster stay silent in their noise.
The sun does not tell me either, its slivers of light striking gold and green and blue, making brightness everywhere but saying not a word.
The stars across the heavens wheel in majestic muteness, their diamond rays sparkling in the sky, but wordless in their wonder.
The sea is silent too, in its rush and roar, its whispering hiss, its slam and slushing up the beach, it says not a thing.
The earth does not speak of the man who fell. It spits out life from its bowels, greening all, greying all, killing all, but not a word of the fallen man.
It is we who fall, we who feel the need to tell.
The universe rolls on.