Before We Brought Them Down

Before We Brought Them Down

Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image  ~ Exodus 20:4

When gods become mere figures, they are not

Gods anymore.  They slip to being oil

On canvas, words on pages, poems caught

In scrolls and codexes.  Gods used to roil

Around in blackness, lava underground,

Like Vulcan with his ever saddened wives.

The beauty of these gods was so profound

Because we could not see them.  All their lives

Were secret in the depths or heights of brains,

Imagined much imperfectly and left

To be unrealized.  They settled stains

Inside their worshipper who felt their heft.

Their distance was as crucial as a bolt

Of lightning to a tree.  They gave a jolt.