by Paul Van Peenen

Because you are not God
You can drink water
But you cannot walk on it

Because you are not God
You cannot inhale thunder
And exhale lightning

Because you are not God
You are not the sovereign
Of your own narrative

Because you are not God
You do not command
A hierarchy of angels

Because you are not God
You cannot flout the laws of nature
With all that implies

Because you are not God
That is not your image
On the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel

Because you are not God
Your actions are suspect
And your words not be trusted

Because you are not God
You need help to fulfill
That recurrent dream of flight

Because you are not God
You are merely a canary
In the coal mine spreading the news

Because you are not God
You should not ask too many questions
Because you are not God

Paul Van Peenen lives in Eugene Oregon and has had work published in Poetry Super Highway, Seattle Review, Woodcrest magazine, Autumn Sky and Literary Veganism among other venues.