EARLY APRIL RAIN
Why are you weeping, world,
in all this beauty of emerald seas
folding and rolling sugar white
upon the shore? Do you know
something we don’t know?
Have you answered a question
that we haven’t even asked?
The sky is dun; music, sad.
Are the gods weary of saving us
with their grace and willing now to let
us in our hatred, greed and arrogance
destroy mankind and the splendid home
that they, the gods, have given us?
Ontic being, of never diminished infinity,
rejoices in its search for a new universe
of humble children who will sing and dance,
happy and ever grateful for the gift of finitude.
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