every website is a shrine
erected for something divine
for humans speak a holy tongue
and their machines can only try.
once i heard there was a time
where churches didn’t shroud the sky
blocking out the precious sun
polluting the horizon line.
and in an age almost forgot
every page was like a thought
or prayer or hymn intoned aloud.
that’s how it was. but now it’s not.
and yes, i am a jealous god
i built this temple in this spot
and i am waiting, even now,
for offerings of goldenrod.
we crawled each inch of greenish bliss
and scraped up dirt from every inch
served wine made to suit the taste
of whoever swallows it.
and now what good can chapels be
to us, their fallen deities?
false idols worshiped in our wake
all we do is pay our fees.
did you ever think this machine
had a soul? did you believe?
well you were wrong, it was just us
we are the only evergreens.
that’s how we’ll solve this, when we try
our spirit grows as tall as pines
babbling, touching the sky
we’ll reach heaven in no time
and live where gods should reside
every website is a shrine.