Once, God was a little boy
Who liked to venture outdoors
And play in bright woods or along an endless seashore.

Later, when God grew older – with a full beard –
He enjoyed sitting beside the fire in the evening
And making up stories about people he had once met.

When God died, however, no one knew,
Because – even though God was a friendly old guy –
He mostly preferred his solitude.


Once, God was a little girl
Who enjoyed playing with dolls
And baking cookies shaped like stars.

When God became a woman with long hair
and beautiful hips –
As she walked down the street, everyone
Wanted to follow her.

When God died, all the beauty in the world began to fade –
So, now, all we have left are a few ancient hieroglyphs –
We don’t know what they say, except that:


She was beautiful.
He was a kind.


Two of the older faiths.


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