Friday, April 18, 2014

She's the governor, the ruler, the mad designer

She's the governor, the ruler, the mad designer,
the sundial that counts the trembling hours,
my sovereign granting final legitimacy
to the state and station I've established.
She's who I ought to capitalize, her grace
determines my will, she's the awful sin
that draws the trees and flowers from the earth
toward a trembling cloud pregnant with life.
She's the architect of cities, the author
making fruitful choices, dispensing wrath
and justice at her terribly senseless whim,
remaining mysteriously beyond our reason.
Yet I have a faith that I should not have,
and give thanks for my total depravity.

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