Tossed in the wind like the oak branches

Tossed in the wind like the oak branches
battering the old window, thinking myself
higher than any teacher, then thrown about
like a tired ship in a merciless tempest.
Cast like a joke into a secular nonsense
ignoring meaning, imagining that I rule
this broad path, that I'm the lawgiver
launching myself toward a good object.
Yet the heave of thunderstorms is beyond
my understanding, the abject absurdity
of a world without god becomes apparent.
The fictions of an individual cannot
be where I place my trust: the hereafter
is the authority that governs my way.