Consequences
CONSEQUENCES
The closer grow the trees, they more contend
To reach t’ward sky and seek the Sun they crave
Competing yet makes harmony in blend
Like soaring columns of a gothic nave
The meadow grasses now above waste high
Among their reaching stems blue damsels reel
Wild oats and barley shelter butterfly
And weave a downy carpet ‘cross the field
Could such Elysium arrive by chance
Of chemistry unthinkingly conceived
Or so, decreed by God to thus enhance
And bless the lives of all who may perceive
A plan that’s micro-managed in all sense?
Or splendid unintended consequence
[P.S. Or a bit of both]
Copyright © Geoffrey Brewer | Year Posted 2021
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