God and William Tyrrell
I fear all the darkness of humanity
is about to be seen to have fallen upon him,
and all the faces of the churches and synagogues,
of the mosques and temples, have turned away.
It seems that all the gods have gone
dark and silent in this moment, with no cries
of why, no explanations or consolations.
It was a grand thing when that little girl
was returned to her family, with tears
of joy and thanks to the god who
claimed to have saved her life and fate.
Why does god claim the victory
of rescuing Cleo—for which we are all thankful—
and then remain silent in the face of the consequent
responsibility for William’s long and agonising absence?
Has god lost his mind? his way?
Is he blind to all but what he happens
to stumble upon by feeble human agency?
Does he vote for the same self-aggrandising
party at every election? Does he only attend
to a certain worship while others are left
to cry alone in the face of his indifference?
My first death was a harsh and silent one,
blind to all possibilities except that god
himself has arbitrarily chosen to die.
After the first death, no other can
ever impinge upon you again.
