The god descended from his upper rank
floating on a cloud
his body like a rock
pressed hard by thought
the fingers of the sunrise goddess
Softened his trajectory into a dance
to made him land
first on a wave, and then on sand.
the sailors rescued him,
as he looked like a perfect piece of art,
And they build for him a marble pedestal
And climbed him up right in the center of their town.
as people and years passed all marveled
at the beauty of the statue god,
Just as he watched and learned from the mistakes,
and the achievements of the old and young
After many springs had passed with rains,
Followed by scorching summers,
after faltering with falls, and standing up to winters
he had figured out their ways.
As he descended from the pedestal.
He softened his hard skin, he melted muscles,
learned to ache, and fueled by blood,
he walked his path as he was growing wisdom,
and also growing old.
Along his path he bent to lift up children with his arms,
he hugged the youth pushing them gently forward,
he helped the elder carry on their loads
and at the end, since he turned a human, then he died.
As snow was melting from the odd pedestal,
dripping gently on the ground
a flower rose with shy white petals
announcing a new season starts.
And then the goddess picked him up,
with gracious fingers and restored him
to his godly perfect form, so that the humans
that have had the chance to meet him
could write up his story, and their descendants
learning about it could look up
and hope to meet their imperfect , loving god.
