Out here in the sun,
great swathes of light,
great rays coming down,
great rays travelling from yonder sun,
travelling so many miles,
far more than I could ever calculate by sight,
but miles that I like to ponder upon,
because the sun,
because the distance of the sun,
has only been roughly calculated,
and no one can get close enough,
but God with his special gloves,
and his fire-retardant clothes,
he probably is the only one,
probably,
because if you do not have the right clothes,
as Icarus found out,
when he fell from on high,
it is not much fun,
and as he did,
God probably held his head in his hands and cried,
and Icarus's mother probably shouted at God,
you should have put a sign up!
But God never did,
and according to God,
being human is the survival of the fittest,
and anyway, God he is not too bothered these days,
about the stupid ones.