Not That Kind
He's not that kind of God, to wipe your rear.
A cosmic bellhop, no. He doesn't slay
your enemies, and no, he doesn't hear
you pray and beg and wish and bitch and bray.
He's not that kind of God, to live behind
the sky, or anywhere that you could name.
An angel flock, flies not, throughout His mind
nor does He test mankind, as if a game.
He's not that kind of God. His Kingdom waits
amorphous in your soul's Challenger Deep,
for you to fathom and fulfill your fates.
He's still until You wake Him from Your sleep.
He is the kind of God who loved you so,
he gave His Grace and Being, for you to know.