They Say

 

They say an unwed, homeless mother had a son in a barn.
They say he was loved and hated, in equal measure,
Until they killed him,
Until we killed him.

They say the world is a cynical place,
Where the strong eat the weak,
And the powerful dominate.
They say every government becomes Rome.

They say life is bread and circus.
They say we race like rats and die petty deaths.
They say we eat the crumbs of our own Rome,
And die to its distractions.

They say faith is a drug for the stupid,
And a crutch for the weak.
They say we should clutch at that Roman bread,
And revel in its circuses.

They say the goal of the world is to eat us all.
They say, “Do not look towards the heavens.
“Look only to the dry places of the earth.”
They say that is our only destiny.

They say we should drink to Bacchus,
And make love to Aphroditie.
They say we will all die anyway,
In the arms of Tantalus.

The homeless girl’s boy said we are children of God.
Saints and prophets from other lands and times say the same,
As well as the world’s madmen.
Or so they say.

They say, “I think, therefore I am,”
Something inside me registers the world.
They say space is not empty,
The quantum ooze is everywhere.

They say the world is made from light.
They say natural philosophy tells us so,
With its particle accelerators,
And its Petrie dishes.

They say the world made itself.
They say a big explosion birthed it.
Before that blinding burst, there was nothing,
And after the kaleidoscope it spawned is done, nothing will return.

They say the universe is vast and meaningless.
They say it is contradictory and senseless.
Then they say they know what it means.
They say, “Trust us.”

Some say the world was created ex nihilo by God,
And the wise men mock.
Others say spacetime came from quantum fluctuations,
And the wise men marvel.

They say a man sees what he wants to see,
Every thought is a Christmas tree hung with misconceptions,
Every bough strewn with lights illuminating his ego.
They say it is so.

They say cruel men turn science into bombs,
And men into machines.
Mechanical clockwork gadgets without a soul,
Distraction machines that run. Until they stop.

They say faith manages,
That the loom of life weaves.
They say each second is a marvel,
And each soul a wonder.

They say the goal of life IS life.
They say, “Do unto others as you would have done unto you.”
And, “Turn the other cheek.”
The homeless girl’s boy said it.

I say we should learn to get along,
That life is short and bittersweet.
The millstone turns,
We are the grist of life.

They say a lot of things.
They will continue to say a lot of things.
True things. False things,
Until all things are resoundingly said. Until they begin again.

They say it. And so it is.

“Merry Christmas,” they say.