Let us not elevate them in our eyes
Nor have them reside in the skies.
We must not fit their backs with wings
But let them remain as human beings.
We need not impute a virgin birth
But keep them here on earth.
We do no favors to a human
By excepting them from ruin
And granting them immortality
From the rules of their morality.

We can applaud the canvas they paint
Without creating angels and saints.
We don’t need superstitious fodder
And stars who can walk on water
Just because we find them witty
Or think their bodies are pretty.
We really do them no good deed
To collect relics in slavering greed
And kiss their sandals and their feet
If we pass them walking in the street.

If we create these godlings of our kin
We make a move from joy to sin
Because we have lost the feel
Of the beauty of what is real
And seek to find something revered
In that which is unusual or weird
When what we must celebrate today
Is where the love exists in what we say
And where the divine appears
Before our eyes and our ears
In that which life has created.
It needs not be elevated.

Brent Kincaid

(Image is from


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