Her majesty is everywhere we turn,

From grand expanse of azure going red

Above our head at day’s end, to the burn

Of her blazing, white-hot light on the dead

And endless fields of parched western deserts.

The miracle of nature’s vast control

Of what feckless human endeavor hurts

With its destructive ways reveals the soul

Of a force greater than what we can kill

With mindless greed. Her strength is time. She can

Outplay, outwit, outlast, exert a will

Far greater than the dreadful, mortal man.

The majesty will survive. We may not.

We acquiesce, or die, as it grows hot.