God Monster

Do you hear that rustling by stairs?

That rustle and that

Low-pitched humming,

Continually unnatural by the stairs?

I squint

From my seat

By the fire

And I can’t see,

For the shadows of twilight have blackened the room.

Divinity:

The fire that continually sighs

With that heavy exhale,

Monsters whose bones creak

(Straining)

Like the floorboards

That I hear

As I sit in my seat by the fire.

And shadows hide the deceiver…

There must be a god in the house.

Lay the traps, son,

Before it makes its way to the kitchen.

Take your rifle from the wall

Where it rests on its pegs,

Though don’t shoot ‘til you know it means harm.

The hands of the dial

Of faded wood on the wall,

Pass inked numbers

(One through twelve),

Straining,

Extending a prolonged twilight as it blackens the room.

Wait, son,

Be still, be patient.

Wait with me here by the fire.

Maybe if we sit here, sit here peacefully

(No sudden movements)

It will leave on its own.

Leave before the shadows shift and fade.

From the window, as I look,

I can see the moon rise

And I can make out the silhouettes of the trees.

Anticipation:

The fire that continually sighs

With that heavy exhale,

Monsters whose bones creak

(Straining)

Like the floorboards

That I hear

As I sit in my seat by the fire.

The fire sighs as we wait for a sign.

But maybe it will leave on it’s own.

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Author's note: This poem is not intended to be a stab at religion or to people who have strong religious beliefs. If you read the poem with an open mind, you'll see that.