by Kirby Congdon…….

God: Hello.

Poet: What?

God: I said Hello.

Poet: Who’s there?

God: I am your God.

Poet: Oh, it’s you. What do you want now?

God: I was just checking. Did you get my revelation?

Poet: Oh yeah. I wrote it down. It’s a poem now.

God: I know. But you changed it.

Poet: Well– the idea was all right, but it needed work.

God: You doubted my word? When it came from heaven?

Poet: Yeah, I know. But it was too stark. I softened it up.

God: You interfered with my holy pronouncement that I bestowed on you alone to
bring you nearer to God? I don’t speak like that to everyone.

Poet: Look! I’m sorry, but did you look it over first? Everything should be carefully proof-read, if I may say so.

God: All right. Say so.

Poet: Well, Big Guy, it lacked rhythm. There has to be a flow of the language to make it sound convincing, you know. The punctuation was haphazard. Words have histories. Just having an idea isn’t enough. You have to work it all out.

God: But I spoke!

Poet: Very good, but the art of listening is in the translation. You hear from heaven and then you write it down in your own language. It’s then you learn. You find out what was being said. I can’t dictate your intentions. I have to interpret what you mean for myself in my own language.

God: I gave you life and this is what you do, twisting my given word, chopping it up, adding things that weren’t there and then deleting things that were? You dare to rewrite the wisdom I have provided you?

Poet: That’s called editing.

God: A poem comes from God and you would change one letter of it?

Poet: No one’s perfect. You tried. But thanks for the idea. We’ve got a new poem now and, you know, I got a real high doing it. We’ll see if some editor snaps it up. I need a boost too. I’ll see you later, Big Guy. Thanks for the plug. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Finis.

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