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.