Father

I am love, power of, all below and above

Creator, I'm a traitor, in form of a dove

Commanding not to kill, as my will, still I sent my son

To buy,... ransom, die for mistakes I have done

I cast down my son I cherish, to perish, in order to save man's worst

Tooth and fang on a cross to hang, satisfying human blood thirst

So bend your knee to a tree, how is this not worshiping an idol

An eye for an eye, a father homicidal, turning his cheek his son suicidal

Author's Note

A metaphor- are not our temporal fathers by definition our god being our literal creator that brings us into this world dooming us to the sacrifice of death?
This poem came to me after reading Fyodor Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov and the quote
"Imagine that you are creating a fabric of human destiny with the object of making men happy in the end, giving them peace and rest at last. Imagine that you are doing this but that it is essential and inevitable to torture to death only one tiny creature...in order to found that edifice on its unavenged tears. Would you consent to be the architect on those conditions? Tell me. Tell the truth." and then Dan Vasc's cover of Gethsemane

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

The second stanza casts such a different light on the Crucifixion...and gives new meaning to the pleas of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemene ...
this is quite powerful...the idea of the Father above questioning himself.
Humans question themselves for not being perfect...but are we really supposed to be...does a Creator who feels he has made mistakes feel his creations should never make them?
Great piece.
j.

[Soren]

Thank you so much Jacob for the read and understanding. I was a bit reticent to post this knowing how sensitive people are but decided that a poet that withholds out of fear of what others might think of feel is not just a coward but not a poet at all.