A DREAM QUESTION

I asked the Lord: “Sire, is this true

Which hosts of theologians hold,

That when we creatures censure you

For shaping griefs and ails untold

( Deeming them punishments undue )

You rage, as Moses wrote of old?

When we exclaim:‘ Beneficent

He is not, for he orders pain,

Or, if so, not omnipotent:

To a mere child the thing is plain!’

Those who profess to represent

You, cry out:‘ Impious and profane!’”

He: “Save me from my friends, who deem

That I care what my creatures say!

Mouth as you list: sneer, rail, blaspheme,

O manikin, the livelong day,

Not one grief-groan or pleasure-gleam

Will you increase or take away.

“Why things are thus, whoso derides,

May well remain my secret still...

A fourth dimension, say the guides,

To matter is conceivable.

Think some such mystery resides

Within the ethic of my will.”