Thursday, November 26, 2020

God is love

The clock ticks with his voice

Nothing is said, but he calls us

Outside of time, the virtual aristocracy opines

Within time and above it, according to mumbles within armchairs

These are the kinds of games nintendo can’t fathom

And as the clock ticks, I hear little feet offer their cadence above

Little animals playing in his zoo

All will wither and fade as the food they consume

Some will be deified and—hopefully—become zookeepers

I hear them dropping thingamabobs on the firmament above, as the clock ticks with his voice

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