The Earth rotates on her axis and orbits the Sun
Not imperfectly, not imprecisely, not inexactly
Her pathway is precise, her timing exquisite
The rooster crows at daybreak, at the crack of dawn
Not before, not after, not while it is still nighttime
His timing is impeccable, his song unchanging
The constellations appear in the sky at their appointed seasons
Neither trying to anticipate their emergence, nor extend their stay
Their formations flawless, their gleam glorious
And humanity sees nought, hears nought
Living life as blind, as deaf, as beggars
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