If God is real He must be Really God:
Not quantifiably predictable
As an algorithm we manipulate,
Nor blindly biddable
Nor impotently frustrated
He must not be some cosmic vending machine:
What comes out no mere derivative
Of what’s fed in,
Not bent into our normative-
Our projection and accumulation
Of idea and expectation.
He must be separate but not severed:
Distinct in Himself, but whole.
Distinct from man, but not removed
Neither sullied by the savage soul,
Nor cold and unmoved
By human suffering
He must BE and not devour:
Out of nothing, nothing comes,
Yet we are and continue
Not created, not destroyed, matter succumbs
To the dependence of our venue
On a source that sustains
He must be Himself:
Unique, with persona and agency,
Not some pet we overestimate,
Nor garden of our fancies,
With fences wherein we cultivate
What we want Him to be.
These things seemed and seem
He must exist above dream,
Above demands and delusions
Above even my own logic.