Silicon Gods

by John Wyatt
copyright 2002


The Shaman sits in his
small cave, drawing Arcane symbols;
Cryptic numerals,
Read by the Gods that they may do
The Shamanís Will.

The Gods are implacable
And insensate.
They do not their own will, but ours.

Outside, the Faithful wait,
Eager to receive their gifts from the
Manufactured God.
Hungrily, they wait to hear their Godís Voice
Speaking the Shamanís
            Broken words.

To our eternal dismay,
The language of the Gods is not ours;
So ever the Shaman sits,
Patiently encoding human thought into the
Cryptic tongue of the
Blind Gods.