By: Paul S. Cilwa Viewed: 9/23/2018
Occurred: 1/20/1972
Topics/Keywords: #Spirituality #Metaphysics #God #Poetry Page Views: 1159
A poem examining the nature and dilemma of God.

I wrote this poem over 40 years ago in response to my trying to imagine what it must be like to be God, before the creation of the Universe.

Through a place without time,

It exists.
It has no name; there is no one to call It.
It has no face, for there is no one to see It.
It is Energy
It is Harmony
It is a matrix of patience, of hope, of love.
It is Its own Cause,
Its own Effect.
It is Its own Yin,
Its own Yang.
It is Its own Question.
It is Its own Answer.
And
It is lonely.

Where is an eye to see Its Face?
Where is a voice to call Its Name?
How far must it reach before It realizes that
There is Nothing else to touch?

Introspection.
When there is emptiness without, fullness can be found Within.

"We will create a Universe in Our own Image," It says.
"We will create Man of Our Self.
We will create Man of Our Energy,
Of Our Harmony,
Of our patience, Our hope, Our love."

Now there is change, by which to measure time.
There is a name, which we ourselves call.
There is a face, which we see everyday.

And still
We reach into the Nothingness which surrounds
Not content with being the creator of our Universe
We still search
For Someone
Even We can call

God.

Paul S. Cilwa
January, 1972