So Long as God Is My Witness

 Have you ever looked out to the stars and wondered where the spark of life came from? How it all happened. What is the purpose of life and is there an all-seeing eye watching over us?

So Long as God Is My Witness

Oh, the little girls and boys, the greatest wonderers, of all things made,

The nature of the world, of birds and bees, strange creatures arrayed.

Yes, innocence of kids, in questions asked, and amusing things they say,

Their dramatic acts, quirky imagination, and the weird games they play.

The world to them a mysterious place, its constant pace, way too fast,

To keep in step, as all the confounding forms of life go whizzing past.

So many missing links and loose ends, the chaos and confusion of life,

Kids lost in time and space, a universe full of strange sounds and strife.

In a topsy-turvy world of day and night, the higgledy-piggledy stress,

The challenges of simple things, like sleeping, eating, getting dressed.

Learning how to speak, and what to say, and the abstract art of reason,

A world of touch and taste, hot and cold, stormy weather out of season.

Rain, puddles, mud, sunburn, and building sandcastles on the beach,

Abrasive words of "don't touch," and things that are kept out of reach.

The emotions of love, growing pains, hunger, smell, confusion, and fear,

Good and bad, and strange words they are not supposed to overhear.

The empty feeling of not being wanted, and the awful weight of scorn,

Awkward answers to, "Where did I come from?" and "How was I born?"

The sensations of joy and happiness, or being caught in the pit of doubt,

Then the greatest puzzle of all, wondering what everything is about?

 

One such child, one evening stood upon a little hill, gazing at the sky,

In wonder at the twinkling stars that shone far from the world awry.

In the darkness time checked somewhere between then and there,

And in that moment of thought came a question, like a silent prayer.

To who knows what, something larger than the child could conceive,

The most mysterious conundrum of all, in what we should believe.

It was, of course, the point of being, the most complex creation of all,

The celestial spark of life, a challenging concept for a child so small.

What had ignited the beginning phase, what vast force had prevailed?

Perhaps somewhere out in space, a great architect in darkness veiled.

The listening ear, the all-seeing eye, the keeper of the universe,

As the little silent thought went forth, through the cosmos it traversed.

Who would have thought that a child so young would have asked,

What some may not consider, and others dismiss as daft?

Unlikely to get a reply, an answer from the zeniths of outer space,

A fitting reply to the meaning of life that infant child could embrace.

 

We once were that very child who looked unto the stars overhead,

Well beyond the universe in awe, its glow of constellations spread.

On clear nights when the stars put on their most magnificent show,

Our starry eyes drawn out into infinity, beyond the heavens aglow.

Standing beneath the radiance, envisioning magical myths of gods,

On ground where generations before had imagined lightning rods.

Looking into the endless vault where countless worlds might reside,

As we pondered other realms, unseen beyond the mortal tide.

Of angels, apparitions, great spirits, and mystical beings unknown,

And all the mysteries of creation far beyond our flesh and bone.

Sometimes we hear the sound of the little girl or boy inside of us,

When we yearn respite from the age of chaos, to get off the bus.

To shed the weight of growing old, the rules of keeping in check,

The urge to be free from having to conform to the upper deck.

To spread our wings toward the sky, to dance to a different sound,

But common-sense reigns us in and puts our feet back on the ground.

 

One such evening I stood in absolute wonder beneath the vivid sky,

I sensed a profound celestial sadness cast from the all-seeing eye.

For Eden's garden once abundant had been stripped near and far,

Tainted yet again with death and desolation, division's deepest scar.

Mankind at odds with God, inclined toward self-destruction's path,

Civilisations set to destroy Eden on earth, compelling wars and wrath.

The weight of this awful legacy lay scattered across the age’s past,

Its wounds engraved upon the injured earth, a hideous residue cast.

The blood of wars, the cries of grief, the pride of false kings and men,

All witnessed by the architect who watched it unfold over and again.

Aghast as mankind bent to hatred's insanity, sharing the self-same air,

Inhumanity sowing bitter seeds until they blossomed everywhere.

Insanity seldom ceding its grasp, greed and lust clouding weak minds,

The endless search for condemnation of different creeds and kinds.

Men with broken wills, cruelly bred, devoid of compassion and grace,

With the trampling of innocence in the persistent, indifferent race.

Thugs bound in masks from truth, creating misinformation and lies,

As though the Judge of all the earth cannot see through mortal eyes.

 

The clerics who misconstrue the will of God and the precious gifts of life,

And the blessings of love, the claims they make, and calls for sacrifice.

The men who live day to day, taking from others, the ones in need,

Regardless of the misery they create, merely to feed their greed.

Unaware there comes a day when every soul in judgement stands,

No kingdom, crown, nor earthly power has impunity upon its hands.

Death's door waits without escape, marking the end of mortality,

Where the measure of time is weighed in the last gasp before finality.

For all the words that have been spoken in triumph and pretence,

To be weighed against the witness of misdeeds and conscience.

Non-believers and religious men who worship many different gods,

Their revelations shaping cultures, with doctrines often set at odds.

Thinking they know what is best as they dismiss any thought of love,

Stamping their ugly brand of hate on Eden's turf, unable to rise above.

 

Yet beyond the strife of nations and beyond the worldly wars of men,

There remains a greater purpose calling out time and time again.

Beyond the hosts and councils, beyond ruling powers great and small,

The God of all the demigod’s reigns sovereign still, above and overall.

And the scattered tribes and faiths of the earth need not remain apart,

For every soul bears the same elements of the common human heart.

The walls we build through fear and pride need not forever stand,

Wisdom, mercy, love, and truth could unite us hand in hand.

We all walk among the fallen souls beneath the same enduring stars.

As God is our witness, we should not deny liability nor cast blame afar.

The questions remain while we can choose: "Do we believe in eternity?"

Or do we live from day to day within the lost fraternity?

Drifting aimlessly through realms of self-doubt and disbelief,

Where disenfranchised souls languish cultivating guilt and grief.

With freedom of choice to live in scorn and condemnation,

Or listen to the all-seeing voice of reason in search of salvation.

 

In hope there is a chance that all the madness of earth could cease,

That from the bonds of tyrants, odium, and wars we could find release.

That there could come a dawning where the vast divide is finally healed,

Where hatred's banners disappear and every wounded soul is annealed.

The merging of souls where the fate of all people is no longer grave,

Set free from mindless despondency and the bondage of the enslaved.

Civilisation no longer bound by ancient edicts of fear and war,

The amalgamation of worldly tribes united in common cause.

Before the One who witnessed all from the celestial beginning of time,

And Eden could bloom again where evil thorns once climbed.

As all the lost nations grow in unity, finding peace under one God.

 

Above the city, upon the hill where I was born, in solitude I stood,

Beneath the constellations set in space, in celestial brotherhood.

My favourite retreat from the frenetic world and colour of day,

Under the mystical lights and ever-watchful gaze of the Milky Way.

Hidden from the cluttered sight of day, shrouded in the dark of night,

Waiting to catch sight of a meteor, a falling star, or satellite in flight.

As the stars cast what appeared to be their timeless sparkles in bloom,

I heard a haunting voice sent from outer space; it spoke of pending doom.

 

In the gravest tones the threads of death clawed at my conscious soul,

The most fearsome visions raced through my head; my heart grew cold.

The entire earth devoured by an endemic plague of greed,

And in that moment hope's eternal dream seemed to lose its need.

The all-seeing eye had opened a vision within my mind to view,

The sight too much for me to consume, my thoughts askew.

The dawn of reform would never come, nor Eden thrive again,

The garden forgotten by the selfish plague of mankind insane.

The planet stripped naked by lust and greed, beyond repair,

The soul of Mother Earth left for dead in a wasteland of despair.

The sky above the desecrated earth turned crimson red from dawn to dusk,

While toxic winds swept endlessly through clouds of choking dust.

 

As life, born of the spark of life, in desolation was left,

Gasping for one last lungful of air, struggling for its final breath.

A warning of a future fraught, a time bomb set to explode,

The fragile bubble bound to burst, life on earth set to implode.

The legacy mankind leaves behind in the wake of folly's trail,

Another fragile world turned to dust, the runaway train derailed.

The spark of life extinguished, mankind finally fails the test,

The arrogant and the heedless convinced they knew best.

In needless greed the heedless seed turned its back upon the earth,

Stamping its wicked mark upon creation, inhumanity at its worst.

 

Though some might think my soul possessed, I must be absolutely clear,

I am neither prophet, fortune-teller, nor divisive seer.

So long as God is my witness beneath the stars that light the way,

Follow me, ere I pray, far from fearsome guns as night gives birth to day.

To discover the way, the truth, the life, and the wisdom in the stars above,

To find soulful purpose beyond despair, beyond the mourning dove.

Heed the inner voice, the voice of unity, the Creator at the helm,

Whose presence endures forever in the timeless realm.

Written By: Alan.Clark@WW1POET  (June 2026)