Speak Not To Me Of Gods

Speak not to me
Of Gods
For superstition
Dogs your words.
Speak Glorious
Wonders to behold.
The Universe the
All Divine, Creator
For all of Time.

The Stars it Births
Which then in turn
Give rise to Worlds
On which Life spawns.
No Gods this power
Do possess, No Being
Has that Mightiness,
But that which from
Chaos sprang
Exploding as the Universe.

And no one knows what to say, David . . .

I feel like this sometimes -- I wish for the purest, cleanest awe that must have come before language itself, when some cave-dwelling hominid walked out of his home, beheld the setting sun or the rising moon, and breathed "Ahhhhhhh . . . " as a chill ran up his back, without knowing why. Because he was just at the evolutionary edge of wonder.

I don't think we can be graced with that state for ourselves, except very fleetingly, any more, although I do believe that some very small children come close.

stoirmeil;

When I have been in the north 3-400 miles or further from Toronto and looked up on a clear winters night I have been so awed by the majesty of the Universe that tears of joy and wonder have trickled down my cheeks. There are no words in any language to describe the vision.


Camac

Yes the Universe is a grand splendor and mysterious wonder that is hard to explain. And I do agree that just by looking up at a night sky one cannot look at it and not be in awe in front of such a beautiful vista.

LOA