What if God is not what we were told?
Not a bearded figure in the clouds,
Not a judge, nor a savior, nor a keeper of laws.
What if God is not separate from us at all?
What if God is not light, nor darkness,
Not good, nor evil,
But something vast, something still—
A presence so neutral, so infinite,
That it simply is?
What if God is the current that moves through all things,
Not deciding, not demanding,
But allowing?
What if every whisper of intuition,
Every collision of atoms,
Every unfolding of time
Is just the ripple of an unnameable force
Experiencing itself?
Are we the hands of God, shaping the formless?
Are we the eyes of God, witnessing itself?
Are we the voice of God, speaking creation into being?
What if we are not separate, not lesser—
But fragments of the whole,
Testing the boundaries of existence,
Choosing, learning, becoming?
And what if this is why we are here?
Not to be saved, not to be judged,
But to decide.
To carve our own path through infinity,
To choose our own polarity,
To create, destroy, and create again,
Until we remember—
That we were never anything less
Than God discovering itself.