The Gods We Make – a poem by Rachel Barga Simpson

The Gods We Make

Earth is full of Heaven’s glory
Heaven’s Earth in full

God’s no fool with a pyrite ring
but everyman’s pure gold

to airy thinness He is beat
a sheen for all creation

better beat than tarnished here
or never mined elation

never mind what can’t be felt
or seen with naked eye

we trample treasures unaware
and kick the ash to sky

we gather haloes shed in haste
cold and man-made rings

choke on coal dust as we try to
find a man with wings

.

Rachel Barga Simpson lives in Nashville, Tennessee with her husband and three children. She holds a bachelor’s degree in English Literature, a master’s in Speech-Language Pathology, and zero accreditations in parenthood. Her poetry can be found in Ever Eden Literary Journal, In Parentheses, and here.

Published by

Sarah

poet, tutor, runner, cat lady

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