Yes, I could have all the answers,
and all the world on its knees for what seems to be perfection,
devoid of any quality humbled before this altar
Yes, I could and many could feign the same, but what arrogance.
Yes, I could and do deign a ‘bless you’ for the tickled nose
and an ‘amen’ for those truths I find based in senses,
but to assume my blessings to you are from above
and to assume that my ‘amen’, my ‘I believe’ suggests
a belief in those senseless things, based in ancient scribblings
of power-hungry men…Oh, the pomposity.
Yes, what humility I can scrounge may be useless
in the seeming conceit of my expression,
but I will not dare to suggest that I know
that divinity is power and that I am its arbiter.
Yes, I could be god. I can and do create:
Beauty, Sorrow, Love, Hatred –
these qualities emanate from
the language of my body;
from the words that flow from my
tongue and from the ink that flows
by my fingertips.
I could very well be.
But would you believe in me?