Creator

[joshrichard]

The world was made by someone else, not god.
The moist, inexplicable bees, the crystal stones,
the painted shells, the lights beyond the
swarming pleiads -

God knows nothing of those things.
We find him in the burning bush,
about the desert where he sings as flames do,
thrilling in their fiery hush.

He told us where the end was,
knew the way to reach it, showed the path;
There, men like marigolds, he said,
come true and understand their lives and live their death.

We help each other through the blind
tall night beneath the infinate spaces.
God looks before and we behind,
but somewhere else, the other unknown face is.

- Archibald Macleish