Poem By kendall thomas
I dreamed I was a cloud last night.
Saw toy soldiers off to war,
children kicking sand castles.
I soared above the four-cornered world
and saw multitudes of starving poor,
and wondered why god
did nothing to ease their pain.
But perhaps this thing, that some call god,
is but a flame that bursts
upon the scene, to flicker
and then to die -
recurring endlessly, it seems,
no more omnipotent than you or I.