poem - drop in the bucket / something is amiss

a drop in the bucket

there was a beginning to the end

provided the end’s beginning began 

was the beginning just an idea

preprogrammed into our initial design

an end conceived by the omnipotence of divine obsolescence 

but for God to infinitely curate a concept is an exhausting enterprise

He requires rest to contemplate other thoughts

remaining selflessly detached from creation's wandering eye

is God to blame for our preconceived end

or does the Mind’s minds ultimately seek its own demise

not by design but by will

does created design expunge its own purpose

by seeking to be the Creator and not the created

hap-hazardously passing the creative baton back to God

existence cannot defeat a Divine Authority

for creation is a single thought concluding within an infinite mind

our end achieving stasis in the well of consciousness

a drop in the bucket

thank you,

joseph pede

P.S.

Something is amiss. I've not seen one sparrow this summer. A robin's nest by my window and one lonely and omnipresent crow flying about are all that grace the skies. The fox, coyote and raccoon have all retreated into the unknown. Skunks, like politicians, have become the masters of Mother Nature, while squirrels attempt to understand the missing links. Skunks are everywhere, including road kill. The weather is a strange brew - leaves are falling in August, mosquitos have retreated and wasps are abundant. My pet dog, as well as our cousin's two dogs in New Jersey hesitate when on their daily walks - watching in all directions, smelling the concrete and persistently pausing.