We deny God everyday yet seek his comfort in the night; perhaps we are merely weakened by our dreams, our heads murky in the baffled light.  However cold lay oblivion’s gaze, I must find a way to gather its focus… for even in the light of day I cannot hold a fist forever. If I cannot find a god in the eyes of time, then I will conjure one from the very primal fumes of my imagination… the world of man will call this god what it may, but that slur will not deter me from my place at the foot of her throne. I will not charge my God with the murders accredited to time’s changeling ways; instead I will redraw my God with the rogue face of impetuous woman! 


© 2012 Brandon Gene Petit

- from Matters of Time and God, Ab Antiquo, Ab Aeterno , Nov. 2010