An Apish God
Were I a high and mighty God
Who never had to pant and plod
Along one straight and narrow way,
I’m sure I’d want to run and play
Across the ordered fields of stars
And scatter them with jolts and jars,
Then swing upon the chandeliers
Of clustered suns, to tweak the ears
Of other Gods who might be nigh
Within the vast and empty sky.
Then where these chandeliers are hung
Down from the arching rafters swung
That roof the curving universe
I’d stop awhile and then converse;
With much ado and apish wit
I’d seat myself and there I’d sit
To state my views and eloquize
With those who would philosophize
Upon the broad celestial view–
Or pitch a bit of apish woo.
7/20/1941 e.v.
Originally published in Thelema Lodge Calendar, September 1990