Gods have their reasons,
hierarchical dramas, aesthetic necessities,
primordial passions.
Personal concerns are of another realm.
Born responsible to manage mischievous fate
until it overwhelms.
Job thought himself holy, perhaps wise,
was doing fine, not realizing
his role as fool.
Hitler, eyes aflame, saw his glorious plan
unfolding, paradise on Earth.
Did he think “They will equate my name
with evil.”  ?  What is worth eternal life
as history and myth?
One answer
assured to be True,
what would be my quest?
Must humans bow to One Truth,
above the rest?
Winnowing down, sifting through dirt, rock,
among worms and mites,
scattered remains of seasons past.
What reasons last, or matter?

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