Apotheosis

[Qwerty]

It's been a long time since anyone posted a poem here for critique, so here's one to, well, maybe revive interest in this forum?


APOTHEOSIS

When I was a boy
God was a bearded old man,
an unapproachable father keeping a
list of naughty and nice.

In my prodigal youth
God was a submissive son
who chose obedience over individuation,
born again over grown up.

When I grew up
God was a long-legged goddess,
breathlessly beautiful and
mellifluously mine
on moon-lit nights.

After the war
God was a grim reaper
bleeding my world of art,
leaves and common sense.

Now, with the years piled up
like pages in a book,
one on top of the other,
God is a mother
birthing and nursing
our times together and apart.

Only she knows
when the time comes to say goodbye
what separation we are meant to bear.

[Mark Hoffmann]

Sorry, I don't have a detailed critique for you. I gave up poetry and want to resist being sucked back into that life where you spend days looking for the right word. 

I have one suggestion for you though, and it would apply if the words formed a sentence rather than a strophe.

Now, with the years piled up
like pages in a book,
one on top of the other,

IMO this would read much better if you switch the order of lines 2 and 3.

I'd also consider using a modifier before book to make the line more interesting and more accurate. Something that creates imagery of the book laying flat. Discarded springs to mind, though that may twist the overall meaning.

Now, with the years piled up
one on top of the other,
like pages in a discarded book,

See, it's starting, I'm getting sucked into the poetry vortex.

[Qwerty]

Hey, thanks for the feedback. I like the suggestion to switch the lines! Good advice. And boy do I agree with you on poetry. I too gave up struggling to find the right words and went back to stories and how-to guides. Reminds me of Mark Twain's comment that... "The difference between the almost-right word and the right word is the difference between a lightning bug and lightning."

Robert Frost is supposed to have said that writing free verse poetry is like playing tennis with the net down. But trying to create a poem with a rhyme scheme gave me a headache. So I switched to free verse poetry. Some were a diamond but most were a stone...