“There Is a Oneness”
There is a oneness in God, one sea, one reality
In all exigencies, and so it is that we may be forgiven
And promptly forgotten for want of pure imagination. In vanity, they who live in
Fear of all things independent, who recoil from continents bound by seas
Of visions circumcised in shibboleths; those who fear their kind and its Holy See
Of horror, elevated as the Host in the cacophony of leisure’s golden trumpets
on the page or silver screen; to these much is given, these perpetually driven.
Spent, they prefer the image of the albatross, the unicorn, what thrives in
Flight, in tears, now realised now immortalised in manuscripts of fantasy;
These of fact, these of fiction hoard seats at the banquet by dint of circumstance
As they huddle together in nights of simile and metaphor; laurels, the oak leaves
Crown their worried brows with scales of vicarious habit born of years of ease,
Forsworn by tedious cloning of the suns leaving nothing to life and chance.
Given, then in specious time or choice, both now please
Their phatic lioves, emphatic in numbers yet limpid in the slightest breeze.