So That God May Be All In All

God is not all things to all people all faiths all beliefs; love Him or Loathe Him, isn't He the oil on an artist's easel? Chameleon without a pseudonym ever-present ageless one and, the same God transforms all things with His, alchemy. We, His base metals are put sorely aflame. The metamorphosis is a malady which, there's no escape other than burning either full to brimming with love or hate in the certainty of fate's ruthless churning. Whatsoever road, will appreciate? God is not all things to all people. And to men who liken a changeling child. Who grows weary crying like a seagull? What welcoming land or shore, shall they find? He then rainbow after the raging storm, stretches each of our canvases, one and all frames every brushstroke to somehow transform- those lowly, base elements each their core.