Psalm 19. Isaiah 40: 13-15a, 27-28; 45:22-23
A chess game? With you? I wouldn’t presume.
You crafted the pieces. You founded the moves.
The board’s of your making, as, too, are the rules.
And I, at my most cunning, would still look a fool.
You know every gambit there is, and besides,
You know which I’ll select well before I decide.
Even were I to team up with the world’s top minds,
You’re more than a match for all of mankind.
You’d let us play on, thinking we’re all so sly –
Thinking we can outwit you, if we artfully try;
A trick with a bishop, a stunt with a knight,
Our opponent our pawn, if we play it just right.
And so we’d proceed with our self-perceived guile,
You looking on from above us, the while.
And deep down we know, though we sometimes pretend,
That there’s only one way this great chess came can end.
You’re simply too smart, and we’re simply too small.
No use in our going against you at all.
I lay my piece down as, one day, all will do –
Every one of us bowed to the king. Game to you.