Sonnet
Attend,
ye gods!
How wise, how wise are we!
to
read “shall not” and hear, unsaid, “except.”
We
have divined such grace as may accept
what
elders, weak of conscience, could but flee.
Sit
at our feet, ye wise!
For
tyranny
is
born of certitude! Ought tales of Hell
not
breed a fruitful doubt, or judgment quell
when
truth of circumstance shall set you free?
Give
praise, ye saints!
Who
grasp the mystery
to
overcome that last persistent sin
of
loving not one's truest self within.
Choose
blessings worthy of your jubilee!
In
nomine
God's liberality,
tolerant
Christ, and Spirit's bonhomie.
~
< /sarcasm >
