O Master of my Life

Ask yourself, God is what, God is who
Then call the silence Sam
And call Sam the silence

God of flowers wind chime and light
God of no and winter and right
God of hard nails who knows how to fight

God of yesterday tomorrow and night
God of microwave paper and sight
God of alabaster bullets and spite

Ask yourself, am I Sam am I Sam…
Then bluff the silence,
Call yourself…

hm?

I feel confused at the totality of the ‘God’ concept within this context. Almost as if my comprehension wraps around the brilliance, but yet never seems to control or know it.

But yet… I feel like this was a good thing, intended if you will.

Nice poem.

Can you elaborate? I guess this poem was pretty conservative for me…

pompous pap