Poem God?

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God?

Now hearing, touch and vision,

Feed through a synaptic tree,

A world of separation,

Seeing just me and not-me.

 

Something that is obvious,

It seems beyond any doubt.

It is not mysterious,

Without need to think about?

 

Are you those who are not-me?

Mirrors of my description,

I am to you your not-me.

A sensible conviction?

 

Is there a God?

 

Or is it just a belief?

That gives a sense of purpose,

A comfort and a relief

From lack of meaning repose.

 

Is there a God?

 

One beyond me and not-me

In our pods of aloneness.

Not matter, me or not-me,

An intelligent vastness.

 

Is god an experience

Of a single blendedness

Giving me, not-me pure sense

That all is a vast Oneness?

 

As it’s increasingly clear

Me, not-me, anything else

Are centres of the same sphere

What’s known as the Supreme Self.

 

Who’s asking ‘Is there a God?’

Is it himself or just me?

Are we in potted earth sods

Or the branches of a tree?