God and Darwin sit at our banquet (unpublished book "Grapes Bitter")
The creation of the world
God in the hands of science
in the hands of man,
the man in the hands of God.
Empty spaces in history
disputes, beliefs, fanaticism,
the subjective reality that disturbs
to the disturbing inquirer of the truth.
What is the truth?
Who is the truth?
Where does it come from?
and, where is it going?
Science seems to be right
but the fear of the unknown
it leaves us stunned, entangled, confused
deranged maybe.
God in a work of art, creation,
Adam and Eve facing each other
day by day in our bodies
the angel Lucifer on one side,
the Archangel Michael
to the other, who guides us?
Genesis elevates us,
inspires us to the divine,
Darwin's theory puts us in free fall,
it makes us see reason,
the script of genesis
it's the same spelling Darwin
Fist and letter come together
philology of two stories
and a culture, the human.
Where we go?,
Who do we believe?
we are human, it is true, but
created in the image and likeness of who?
Of our ancestors?
Which ones? In which of the two stories are they?
The dark-skinned ones, who still
they embody the spirit of science,
black, white, yellow, red
symbolism of the divine
symbolism of a society in evolution.
A desert of images,
a desert flooded with uncertainty,
near or far from the truth,
we do not know
God is white, black or mestizo,
descendant of Greeks, Romans
or son of David's house?
Darwinism in between,
drives us crazy with his reason,
Merciful God, gives us power of,
reasoning, debating, creating hypothesis, free will,
to say No or Yes,
it's white or black, good or bad
Or have we evolved?
And that is why we are right.
Eva, a Hommo sapiens
from the centuries of the centuries,
or only for a few millennia
Who was first?
Adam or the Hommo erectus,
the hominid that descended from the trees,
He hunted, he fished, he thought, he cooked,
the same one who developed the language,
language in genesis, language in Darwin.
Or was the tower of Babel guilty of so many languages,
if Darwin is right, why do not we speak the same language?
if God is real but intangible,
Why some of us wear emeralds,
and others, black pearls in the eyes ?.
I believe in the all mighty Father God
I believe in science, I believe in the humanities
In the perfect and the imperfect
In love and sadness.
My creed
Where does the unhealthy science go?
Where the humanities?
Is our story clear?
or simply turn gray
it dyes with time
and becomes restless with the passage of man.
Where the humanities?
to the human, to the rehumanization
running with the story.
Beliefs, Western
And Eastern, rescuing what we have lost,
our essence
Where can the possible sciences?
to an impossibly human world,
remembering Borges,
the golem sleeps already in the hands of the rabbi
Are we God's golem?
God our rabbi?
Hebrew letters on our forehead
that will lead to our death,
maybe we are the golem of a golem,
creators of golems,
Who will have the courage to withdraw that E?
Me to my golem or my father golem to me
EMET, MET, TRUTH, DEATH.
A prose without response. An answer that will never be prose.
NOTE: The contradictions between reason and spirituality often make us question. I wrote this poem in 2009, like most of my poems that make up the book Grapes Bitter, which I will start publishing to be known by the steemit community.
Yeah, it may resemble Borgs. Great questions on all of that. Why don't we all speak one language? If God is like the wind, why do we have statues that are like tangible? Love your poetry and I do poetry and art too.