Sunday, May 27, 2012

Natural Forces

What is this thing, this new ability
By which I may string up a child of three
With long lasting words strung out by me? How
Strange is it to attack that which attacks
Without striking a blow, to  give a bow
While all the time I know true justice acts
On my behalf, is my witness above;
And even justice is mercy in love.
How wordy is my attire, made up from
So many arrows and barbs that do sting
Those that approach; I harbor, as a thing
Of great price, my pitiful pride I won.
Yet we see the contradiction; for force
And mercy have limits, else they are coarse.  

                   Natural Forces, (c) Luke Bennette, May 2012

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