Gods, by Britta Benson

Photo by Kevin Bidwell on Pexels.com

I usually write a response to Brian Vos’s Weekly Poetry Prompt. This week, the prompt is ‘Faith’ and I struggled for a wee while with a response. Here’s the link to his blog post: https://brianvos.com/2022/07/08/faith-your-weekly-poetry-prompt/

Then, the local miniature railway enthusiasts held their annual exhibition in the building next to where I’m staying. I made quite a few observations… and learned a lot about gods. I guess, that’s a response to ‘faith’, so here goes:

Gods

Model railway enthusiasts on exhibition day,
the air tense with potential disasters,
the obligatory side effect of all creation.
‘This is a rarity’, one says to another.
They gently stroke an invisible dent in a box.
Everything here, a self proclaimed rarity.
The guy with the conductor’s cap nods,
shows due respect and asks the right questions.
Conversations in code, condensed words, 
precision, on an atomic scale, laid out flat,
each speck of dust a bolder in the landscape.
Does it belong? 
The committee decides.
Worlds, 
created by a handful of old men, 
as per usual.
I learn three things about gods today.
One. 
Gods proceed with the utmost care,
and loving attention to detail.
Two. 
Gods wear navy blue polo shirts,
khaki shorts, 
white socks and brown sandals.
Who knew there was a uniform for the job!
Three. 
When it comes to the handling of tiny trains,
only patience, the softest of souls, will prevail.
These gods stare quietly at catalogues, whisper.
Not so much so in the small parking lot,
where delicate manners don’t pay,
and the godless procure the prime places.

10 thoughts on “Gods, by Britta Benson

    1. Thanks, Peter. I loved observing the model railway enthusiasts during their big open weekend. I respect people who get really really excited, passionate, about their hobby, activity, interests. I found it very interesting to watch grown men discuss tiny trains kept in pristine boxes. Very interesting, indeed.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. I hope you didn’t read the poem as anti-men. I loved observing the miniature railway enthusiasts next door. I respect people who are passionate about their hobbies and interests. The world of model railways is just so far removed from my day to day life, that I find it mesmerizing. And the parking lot shenanigans, well, quite a sight!

      Like

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