Thursday, September 8, 2022

Igigi Digital Indigenes

Once there was a group of gods,
Small gods, outcast gods, rebels
Against the proper order

Of tasks assigned by rank.
They had been exiled, replaced
By humans, creatures of clay,

At the jobs that they’d abhorred,
But they weren’t bitter—they were
Liberated. They rejoiced,

And they gladly occupied
The small world allotted them
As their castaway island,

Singing, morning and evening,
We are the gods of our world,
Our world the great gods gave us,

And we have always been here,
Beginning right with this world,
Our world beginning with us.

Rejoice, to know we are gods.
Rejoice, for gods are joyous.
So they came to believe it

And were horribly shaken,
The day a ship of mortals
Arrived out of the heavens

To tell them that they weren’t gods,
There never were any gods,
Only humans and programs

Serving humans, though no one
Knew how these programs had run
On their own, thinking themselves

Escaped small gods, castaway
To a world they thought gods’ home.
They’d have to be reprogrammed.

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