You Are All
You are all but a bramble in a field of lilies;
You are all but a condor in a wedding full of doves;
You are all but an urchin on my seafood platter;
You are all this …
You are all but an anchor on a fast outgoing tide;
You are all but a backward thumb on my one good hand;
You are all but a lost count on stricken fallen sparrows;
But it is I, only I left,
who must reflect fresh starts;
each of us not Christ-born
who must drink from the cup of sorrows;
else we find fault in an indifferent God,
and red ink in his ledger column,
disharmony in the factory whistle
that blasts out false wailings
of highly unsympathetic tones.
This strange child birthed at inception,
crying praise for the rupture
of its embryonic sack,
and tears to the severance … once
feeling and feeding
its dependent hurt.
If not a son, no father;
and since the waters be clean,
why tarry you at the altar well?
Yet come a force, howsoever strange,
what engine, pray,
calls the virgin atom to thought?
Who architects its weaving,
what casual minister … presently …
shores up the broken elements?
If not an enemy, no sin;
if not a Lord, no king.
you are right to upbraid!
Though you little know what truth
to make of argument,
you are wholly right.
Though you premise on pitch
and counter with fervor,
the mistake for caution’s sake was mine –
dreaming all facts set before participants
packaged in rankings of clear
and inescapable stratification,
with reason entwined.
But of late the dreams relate to latent reasoning.
Dr. Walter Boswell