As Sky-God Ascends Through Mist

They say you are the grandest
in girth and omniscience and thunder.
Today the lesser gods have disappeared,
consumed by your fire; the light of your truth.
Only you remain: triumphant mono-deity rising above humanity.

You seem so insubstantial in our midst.
Our horizon of grand expectations of life,
firmament of certainty, plummets in the new dawn
to make way for you, so small, so indistinct, unspeaking
unmoving as we move. You are, we know. What do you DO?

Beyond the sturdy pin oaks,
the distant cliff awash in blood of aspiring sacrifice,
the silence no tune penetrates with hope and harmony,
you witness worlds in motion toward what end?
What  goal of yours guides us to redeem our ilk?

What salvation waits beyond the hill
beyond the hill beyond the hill? Divine perpetuity
is not the arena for the human race. We count the days.
What power would you reveal through morning mist
To show us life's elusive WHY, ascendant God of Sky?

Job Conger