16 NOVEMBER 1991, Page 55

God Talk

'Can I take my toys to heaven?'

Out of the mouths of babes. 'We'll see.'

'Does God have any friends — like Paul and Graham?' What has been happening at that nursery school?

What happened to. . . ? 'It's been a long day, Dan.' Sensing a lack of grip, you fling a stare that makes me knock my drink back, lift you up. Entangled somehow with a pirate tale, Dad's low down on the Most High follows.

Friends walk the plank. 'God saves them, doesn't he?'

A sect of two, we shape a creed from gold and angels and the Spanish Main.

Your bricks, strewn round the room, await ascension into some untoppling structure.

Michael O'Neill