Two companions aboard a flight,

They traveled in such a class:

As others the hours sleep away,

They are opportuned to talk away-

The conversation of a theming verse.

One tugged his friend’s shoulder,

God is dead or so I heard:

The friend shuddered –

What killed him?

Learnt it was a poison of reason, replied he.

What a scheming malice,

To have him drink from the poisoned chalice!

What shall we do?

Can we make all anew?

That’d be too lofty to dream.

Said the first – Don’t be too quizzed,

He’s been so squeezed:

But it is such riddance,

And we’ll have a redance,

Taught by the music of enlightenment.

We’ll find ourselves a lofty plane,

Where all will be made so plain:

No one to apportion the blame,

We’ll thrive on love fiery flame –

This, without Him, we can surely attain.

We’ll build our castles in the sky,

And go beyond the mighty high,

Or at least His post assign:

Our song will go so wild –

Our dread is past in the night.

God can’t be dead, the second said.

We may because of Him be in dread,

And hide within the walls of reason,

Or eat of the hanging cuisine;

But the truth will not always be hidden.

Our castle we must build,

But on His own terms,

Lest before our eyes,

It comes athundering down,

And instead of a dance, we’ll have a pile.

If we set ourselves on such pedestal,

And pluck off the potent petal:

If we offset the omniscient throne,

When evil is well grown,

Unto whom do we turn to be sewn?

Are we of ourselves capable?

Within whom evil is culpable?

We’d build our castles in the sand,

And hope would crumble in our hands,

Until God is brought back from the dead!

Gabriel T. Abina is a lively Christian writer, whose desire is to be a voice for God in this generation. A graduate of Hist. & Int. Stds, he has two completed manuscripts: In The Eye of the Storm & Rahab: God's Grace Unveiled, and currently on some others. He blogs @ gabrieltabinablog.wordpress.com