/ Poetry

The Rape of Providence

The Sun burnt down the trees; the Wind scattered the dust

I recall now the past, of life just begun,
When my faith and my plight lay with earth, Wind and Sun.
The Sun warmed the earth; the Wind scattered his seed,
In the shade of the wood, I found all I should need.

I seasoned myself to this familiar surround,
To the perennial wealth of my feet in good ground.
Here I aspired and nurtured good hope,
And planted it sure 'tween sapling and oak.

Then out of thin air, the Heavens parted trust,
The Sun burnt down the trees; the Wind scattered the dust.
My protectors blew and shone each his own way,
And each blamed the other for Providence's decay.

I floundered quite helpless in this quagmire of spite,
Aimlessly floated 'tween Breeze and the Light.
On the point of a triangle, one edge cut away,
Though loyal to both, both only to he,
So pointless and adrift, I set sail on the sea,
Loyal to no man, not even to me.