Never asked God why: A poem 

The humble keyboard displaying from A to Z 

and from zero to nine; to divine lessons we are wed 

Can we be enriched by the black on blue screen? 

Or do we render His pixels bereft of sheen? 

Yet, are we mere liveried footpersons marked by numbers? 

If God gives us the fires of each and every hunger, 

then the Pandorra’s box is His, the disillusion we kiss 

So, how come we fear that He should punish? 

We know that God’s delete key is always at hand 

And we can never know where Esc will have us land 

And when systems are down, how should we understand? 

We have the scroll key to use when we are in fate’s remand 

Is assisted dying or suicide a careless crime in His eyes? 

With only ultimate death, can we secure added time? 

Every so often when I felt I was left high and dry 

I felt ready for a shutdown, but carried on never asking Him why