“There is no God,” he claimed, and all creation disagreed.
Thunder shouted His name, wind whispered of His every deed,
But he could only hear the void between ears left and right.
He couldn’t read what the stars wrote; he saw only the night.
“Perhaps God has removed Himself,” he said as God stood near.
The stones cried out to greet Him, but the man refused to hear.
The hills sang while the trees danced, worshipping in green array.
God opened wide His arms; the man closed his eyes, turned away.
“Perhaps God died eons ago,” he smirked as angels sighed.
“Perhaps the whole myth ended on the day that Jesus died.”
The birds ignored him as they raised their songs of praises high;
The flowers waved, the grasses bowed, the Living God passed by.
Psalm 14:1-3 The fool says in his heart, “There is no God.”
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