“Quietus”

“Quietus”

Quietus on the ramparts, days are calm;
Some business among bees. Their range,
Their commerce gives no hint of change
That’s coming; gravitas and ancient gravity,
daily prayer and psalms,
And possibly a pause from labours of the dawn
Take full advantage of the fair exchange
Between future morning’s innocence
and the last evening hiatus of an age.
The former, order; the latter, industry,
what’s concluded, however, resolves
All profits greater to the glory of the queen exceed in sums
Of lessers than the whole in time; fractals in the seeds,
Satisfaction measures well in conjugations
that outlive the tyranny of verbs; the simple basis
Of natural order is perfected in the jewel of the species;
there is homeostasis
In what’s past and all that will be
and nothing in between may cease within the run
Of all indicative histories and subjunctive prophesies
as sure of eternity as the sun is guaranteed.

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