Molding God into Our Own Image

DSC_0091 081
DSC_0091 081 (Photo credit: Doodlebugs Mommom)


Was it ever more than
an idealist’s dream?
– Molded from that which
could never be,
a world built on
the balance beam
of give and take,
rise and fall,
leaders blessed
who hear the call
– we’re all the martyrs
of a sinister need
to be victorious.


Politics and religion,
like a gun
with ammunition,
like the surgeon’s knife
and the assassin’s blade
– God molded into man’s lust
before the shot is fired
with a robust call
for all to see,
reveling in hypocrisy.


The ego betrayed
by the rosary’s rotation,
taking the mind
and changing its formation,
from an endless cycle
of selfish greed
– my family,
my people,
my nation,
– our loss.


A state of mind,
so refined
and so sublime
that words could never
that fighting could never
that seeking to die for
is like an endless race,
for only through living
can we hope to pass on
the comfort of
its warm



  1. Sreejit,
    I’ve been following your blog for a while now, and I was getting concerned that you weren’t writing! I stopped receiving email notifications; I signed up again just now. I wanted to share with you that this post is extremely synchronous to my life – and, so, I thank you for sharing this beautiful, beautiful poem. A friend of mine sent a picture of a watercolor she did on World Elephant Day (8/12). She didn’t know it was World Elephant Day, of course – that’s just how things happen :o). Anyhow, her words above the elephant were, “not all those who wander are lost”. I feel the “wandering” in your poem – going from one point of view to a more meditative, boundary-placing “peace”…it just flows the same sort of way as her words in my mind. So, with much gratitude, I bow and thank you for your part – for you being you.


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