First published during a lively debate on the strangest notion, that, despite the koran's continual railing against Christianity in general, and Christians in particular, there might still be substance to islam's claim to somehow share the same God.
Anyway, this was my contribution, and, while not without merit, it was rushed to meet the deadline and I remained unhappy with an adjacent rhyme in the last two stanzas, so that's fixed, and here it is again.
My God stood there before me,
And proud, He called my name.
Then showed how I might find Him,
In a single drop of rain.
He helped me when I faltered,
Knocked me down when I excelled,
But stood by my bad decisions
And praised when I did well.
Indeed, my God was crucified,
But life is no more tragic,
For He also walked in Buddha's shoes
And was baptized by St. Patrick.
So when you meet your Maker,
As meet Him we all must,
Prepare to meet a loving God,
Both tolerant and just.
Fear not that He'll chastise you,
Or ask 'How did you come?'
For His welcome is as great,
As from the Father, or the Son.
My God is Revelation,
The whole that we can know,
And Time & Space no more, than just
His footprints in the snow.
So, with a Universe of questions
You'll ask, but only one,
On bended knee, you'll simply say
'My God, what have I done?'