Of God-kind what could be known by Mankind?
What trodden-upon worm knows of the heel?
What caged bird with clipped wings will turn its beak
When the caging hand is the hand that feeds?
Will Faith alone suffice when blood is let
to bleed; when the cries out in the darkness come
singularly recalled upon thy cheek?
Can eternal providence be claimed,
justified, by a slight divine neglect?
Can Science quantify and qualify
Arrange, explain, and with solipsism
attach a definition that can hold;
with which those newly chiseled words create
new words for what is the same old same old?
Will a muse in whatever madness flows
find a way for the electricity
of our kind's Universal Soul to strike
upon my pen and forge a light in words?
Words that burn with this eternal wisdom
that has forever guided humankind.
Words of like I shall rely upon
like ancient constellations, these great stars
by which this ship, this Odyssey will sail.
To carve upon swelling seas of darkness
with Hope, a path, to space in need of light.
And to the muse indentured to this task
May no assertion ever cross our path
Lest it be how ignorant we en-mass
Can be, have been, yet "Always?" will we ask.
