Digital art and magic: HJ McEnroe
This poem grew out of a conversation one day with a friend over how little we understand about "God." For an entity in whom so many of us profess to believe, no one really knows the substance and mind of God. At a certain point in the discussion, I mentioned that maybe the gnostic Gospel of Thomas (saying 77) offers us supporting detail of the Gospel of Luke, "...for behold, "The kingdom of God is within you...'" (Luke 17:21)
(Saying 77: "Split a piece of wood, and I am there. Lift up the stone, and you will find me there.")
I said, "It's like that mother and child walking hand in hand...like tiny pieces of God." Well, my friend threw down the gauntlet, insisting I say more. This poem is that "more."
(Saying 77: "Split a piece of wood, and I am there. Lift up the stone, and you will find me there.")
I said, "It's like that mother and child walking hand in hand...like tiny pieces of God." Well, my friend threw down the gauntlet, insisting I say more. This poem is that "more."