Babel

Babel
From the sands of the great cradle,
once arose a great tower.

The men who made it,
prided themselves on making it.
But knew not that envious eyes,
looking from far above,
saw all, and were inflamed.

They danced, and played and sang,
their simple lays heralding
the primeval love of life
that within each man of the age rang.

But he whom they called great and beneficient,
holy and all-pervading,
grew angry and said, “All shall be sand again,
and none shall be gods but me!”

So he contrived and planned to level the earth.

With a great host of calamities,
he set out, this god.
All who saw him trembled,
All who walked in his path fell,
As his fell army toward the city trod.

At the gates he reached at last,
and preached to the men within
a lesson of great tolerance and generosity
with him the first benefactor.

They, with simple hearts,
welcomed him in, showed him their simple city
and gave him the first bread of many households.

The god ate and drank,
yet ceased not to look upon it:
the thorn in his divine eye,
the cursed tower.

His feast finished, the god spoke:
“I hear thou hast built a tower.”
The kings and aldermen
with raised heads, replied:
“Yea, we hath. We hath built a tower wondrous tall,
for all who wish to have communion with God.”

The god, enraged beyond himself,
thundered: “How dare thee?
Dost thou not know? God lives only to control thee,
not to commune with thee.”

Fearful eyes beheld then him
(who they had called great)
as he grew and grew in size
and laughed with pleasure.

“Come, come!”
Came then the plague and the wind,
the war and the fire,
and before the people’s eyes
ravaged their homes.

The bloody god thus satisfied
smashed down the tower and crowed:
“No more shall men be gods!”

But walked forth in hardy counterpoint
the tower’s creator, and spake with impunity:
“Thou breakest this tower now, fickle god,
But we shall build another!”

The god looked down upon the man who dared,
and spake: “Thou shalt build another?
But to do what thou sayest, thou needest men.”
He laughed then, this manic god,
and said: “Thus is the root problem destroyed:
to build this, thou needest men.
And men thou shalt not have.”

Saying thus, the god reached down
and with his hands among the commonweal,
scattered them like wind, dust.
Then he cursed them, verily, he did;
For he said: “Thy men I now separate
Like the wind seperates the dust from its kin.
And, for the sin thou hast verily committed,
Live thou forever in darkness, blasphemers!
Be not understood even on thy deathbed.
Speak when thou wilt not be understood,
and speak not when knowledge knocks thy door.
For I now give thee… the curse of language!”