5 – APOLOGY

I brooded on dark water, though neither fish nor bird,

an unembodied voice that made all things by word,

made light, space, worlds and time, creatures that glow and grow,

bodies that shine above and root, glide, creep below.

Seeing all this was good, I wanted creatures who

will share my admiration of everything I do.

Though always bodiless I have a certain form

so modelled it in clay, gave breath to make it warm.

You are my image folks, greater than all I see

in intellectual scope, but not as great as me.

Your dreadful faults, alas, reflect what I desired:

a need to make a new life, a need to be admired.

New lives made with labour, bodies requiring breath,

come to displace their makers, condemning them to death.

I will not mend the faults that generate our woes.

Mistakes can be creative too, as every author knows.


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