Monday, December 28, 2015


We are breached; undone by abundant time
And we live so briefly we are apt to forget
Nothing pulls us back from significance
From our science we belittle point of nuance
Upon the noxious produce of our endeavours
The ice was freed from its polar servitude
It now warms its vapours with disdain
And we still call it elemental aberration
This water unleashed quenching the fire of man
But if mother earth sheds but even one tear
We are besieged for a hundred years
In soft, fluid eulogies of chance made real
And all waters drain and run to the sea
And still this is not yet accounted disaster
For this is no great flood we see here yet
Tis but hypothesis that dared speak its name
That our mother earth is no puppet in man's show
If this is chance who would wager now on its odds