I want God to weep

uncontrollably and with shame.

I want Her to lose sleep

for what we have done to Her planet and in Her unspoken name.

When put on trial, Her hands gripping the dock in fear

I want Her to realise that Her mistake,

Her complicit action, worthy of the arrogance of fabled Lear,

was to find us so spiteful, imaginative and on the take.

For when the sentence is passed down,

the gavel  banging repeatedly with judgement almighty,

that the lawyers turn in disgust at her pleas of a punishment custodian

as she argues her case for not causing us to drown,

that she weeps stone cold tears as they throw away the key,

that she didn’t read the small print which stated she was never covered for acts of Man.

Ian D. Hall 2014.