What God Felt

If I ever got the chance 

To wander in front of God

And ask Him a simple question

With the guarantee of an answer

I would ask who inspired Him

In the midst of the abyss

Where there lies no center

No gravitational point

Only the ever expanding

Nothing. 

Alike to how God felt, His

fingertips reaching out

Does He even have fingertips? 
Hands? a face? a voice? 

Does He exist or is it only

the feeling of humanity 

of being present

What inspired Him then? 
Alongside the feelings of 

pointless boredom and loneliness

Where nothing was His everything. 

Detesting this, yearning for more

Alike to how the universe expanded

Just for the sake of filling up space

God created. And created. and created

It came to the point where

Humanity itself felt like God 

(A trivial pursuit) 

Useless, sitting around searching for

That restless itch to create and change 

To fill some void 

An artists call which beckons them 

To pour what lays dormant within

Upon the blank canvas in front of them

To feel, finally, their fingers, hands, face

To pour out a voice of sensational creation

And to begin anew