Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #29
Are we Thy devices to plumb the deplorable deeps,
A living gauge to measure the mortal condition?
Dost Thou watch in us the alarming parameters
And all the complications and consequences therein?
Are we Thy eyes that peeps over the precipice,
A living vision-scope to gaze at the ruin
That has gathered at the base of all lives,
The foul expanse and the detritus rotten?
Are we Thy emanations owning all burdens
That would baulk the wills of lesser men,
Is it why we are left without Thy cares
Lent to all that is, even to animal and demon?
Oh who shall doubt the soundness of Thy reason,
For of us none remains to perform that function!