God forbid that I should worship
Temporal gods of clay and rust
Gathering in my groping visage
Treasure-chests of painted dust
God forbid that I should journey
From the cradle to the grave
Only then to find in horror
They are powerless to save
God forbid that I should hunger
In the wantonness of things
Choosing never to discover
Heaven’s sacred offerings
God forbid, as centuries trickle
Through the clouds above a stone
That I should thus remain forever
Bound by gods without a throne
© Janet Martin
