Nineteenth Century

I do not believe in God.
Not yours or your father’s
Or Chaucer’s or Gaius J.
Caesar’s I do not believe in
A higher power
But I believe in you
Your words and Nature

Why not begin again?
Like you proposed
New gods for a new era
New Traditions to follow
New scenes of the picturesque
Where I’ll walk with you
Beyond retrospection

Yet time moves and has
Since your days of youth
And I’m sorry I’ve read
Your psalms a century
And a half too late to
Believe in your god
Your concept of faith

But I do believe in you
Your thoughts, your pen
Timeless
In an age where everyone
Believes in themselves
Endlessly
I think of you, dearest Emerson

As I sit and watch the tide come in
And the moon wane
And the ants bear weight
And the children play
And the birds wade off the vibrant
Green banks of Lake Michigan.