Physically Humanish Gods

Even the abstract big ones
Had bodies to begin with,
And sometimes they still do.

You wish you could worship yourselves.
In all your stories you add giants
And shapeshifting anthromorphs

Who behave more or less like you,
Who always talk with words, like us,
Who are just so much better,

Stronger, faster, cleverer, and strangely,
Usually not terribly wise. Even the great
Gods don’t seem possessed of genius.

That’s a trait ascribed to little, elderly
People at the margins of magic tales
Who give advice. It’s better to be strong

And invincible, excellent in battle,
Like Superman and Yahweh, like a storm
God crashing, thrashing, and creating,

Occasionally praised for infinite wisdom
As a flattering epithet but rarely shown
Being wise, you don’t really ask why.