Gods

 

We give our gods human shape;

they suffer our failures and weaknesses,

indulge in our desires.

And we believe ourselves god-like

with the right to dream of more,

infinitely more.

No surprise then, we meet them

on the nth storey of Babel,

staring at us; mirrors.

Drift

 

Years drift

languorous as smoke.

Those I knew

insubstantial now

as the memory

of their voices.

How we waft

on the gentle current

of time.