Saturday, March 19, 2011

Poetry: On Religion.

(I wrote this a long time ago, but still think it is relevant)

On Religion

"Be like the egg," the prophet said
"The egg shall show to you the way.
I've taught you everything I know.
I have said all the things I need to say."

"But what's to learn about an egg?"
the people ranted, screamed and pleaded,
But the prophet had already left,
their questions were not heeded.

So the people scattered far and wide
of eggs they searched for hints and clues
Some chose to meditate and pray
and some old scrolls perused.

The people of the Eastern lands
were the very first to see the light.
"Aha! The prophet must have meant
that eggs indeed are always white!"

So the people of the Eastern lands
dressed in clothing white as snow.
their homes white washed, their hair was bleached
No pigment was allowed to show.

"Not so!" the Western people cried.
convictions true, no doubt at all,
"Not white, as claim those heretics,
but eggs are rounded like a ball"

The western people did their best
to be as round as they could be.
They ate as much as they could eat
they glorified obesity.

"Not white! Not round!"
The northern lands in rapture cried.
"Soft and gooey inside, true,
but eggs are hard outside!"

So everything was armored up,
to take a blow without a dent.
it made it hard to move and touch,
but the prophets words were heaven sent.

"Not hard! Not round! not white!"
The Southern lands in chorus cry
"when hatched they chirp and fly about.
Eggs are birds without a doubt!"

The Southern lands did imitate
in all ways the baby birds.
They flapped their arms, ate worms and bugs
and tweeted all their words.

As years went by the borders grew.
When East met West, and South saw North,
the cultures clashed like fighting cats
to defend their egglesiatical worth.

The bombs of bleach from Eastern lands
de-pigmentated the squawking South.
The bulbous forms of the Western tribes
sat and squashed the armored North.

And then from whence it was he went,
the prophet did return.
He stood in horror and looked about
his eyes began to spark and burn.

"People! all of you are right! And wrong!
Eggs are hard outside but softer in,
and baby birds indeed. They are round and white
and all of that.
But I meant that eggs are self contained,
the seeds of life within."

Be like the egg, expand and grow,
and break the shell and see the sky!
become more than what you started as,
That also, is an egg, I cry!"

"What do YOU know!" the people cried!
"You aren't round, or white, or hard
The prophet would never say these things!
You can't be him, blowhard!"

They set upon the prophet then
They squashed him flat and bleached him white
And squawking men pecked at his back
They sent him running through the night.

So to this day, some people chirp
some grow fat or dress in white
many wear their armored shells
and all believe that they are right

The prophet lies there in the dirt
bruised and bleeding and bleached
he weeps for those who followed him
and now will never be reached.