Let me tell you

Of a time

When I,

Still divine,

Was as god

To all the

World.

The world being mine,

Occurred to me

As life-sized

Phases

Outside time

And each of them;

Sublime.

For many years

I was in flux

But what to god

Is “move”?

I move,

I ebb, I flow

Along the waters

Of all there is

To know,

I know.

No proof

Of all there is

To see,

Yet I see. I can,

And so I go

To all there is

To be,

I am.

And so I know

All things

Like where else

Could there have

Been

For one such as I

But then and there

Beside such

A glorious star?

If I were as King

Would then she

Not be my

Queen?

Passing by,

We took no

Notice

Of old man

Time, gods

Being gods

Already live forever

Each day

Every minute

Is as, eternity,

Went by in

Lengths of days

And weeks

And a heathen god

Found faith

In himself

Beside another

Such as he.

And he as God had no

Mother,

Only priests,

As

gods have no

Sons

Only ideas,

Are born

In the conviction

That you can not

Be here

Alone,

Which is what made me

Of Knowledge;

All-knowing

Of Foresight;

All-seeing

Unlike mortal

Men, the gods

Of hindsight.

All-present

Unlike light

All-alone

Much like space.

And that is I am

God of,

Truth that is not too true

And space, boundless like the hubris that drives me.