Steve Turner (who may or may not have been stoned) #3

Yes.
It is time for another moment of literary genius.
We are due for another Steve Turner gem.
Overdue, in fact.

SO. Here is a little something for a glorious Sunday like today...


Untitled - by Steve Turner

We say there is no God
   (quite easily)
when amongst the curving
steel and glass of our own
   proud creations.

They will not argue.

Once we were told of a
   heaven
but the last time we strained
   to look up
we could see only skyscrapers
shaking their heads
   and smiling no.

The pavement is reality.

We say there is no God
   (quite easily)
when walking back through
Man's concreted achievements
but on reaching the park
our attention is distracted
by anthems of birds coming
from the greenery.
We find ourselves shouting
a little louder now because
   of the rushing streams.
Our voices are rained upon by
   the falling of leaves.

We should not take our arguments
   for walks like this.
The park has absolutely no manners.


Peace out, Fellow Inhabitants of this Planet; may your ears be filled with the sounds of birds and falling leaves.