Smithy of my Soul

Within the smithy of my soul
Lies the collective
Consciousness of my race
With all its charms, tragedies,
Vindictiveness and grace,
Making all intelligent
And emotional selections
According to inherent
Selective perceptions,
Though it seems
Baffling and perverse
That such a tiny brain
Can span the universe,
And yet, despite all our
Assets, we persist
To pray to gods
Which don't exist,
Perchance, it may make sense
- to speculate:
Are we this universe's
Only god-like intelligence?

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2007 Alfred Charasz