A Poem of Mythic Disaster

(With an unaccustomed spark of wishful thinking)

The Curse in Progress

(From Gentle Science)

I have seen the glaciers sweating.
I have seen them.
I have seen them in their travail.
    They cry out,
    And calve their myriad, untimely brood,
    Apt to evil.

I have heard the Ocean moaning.
I have heard it.
Moan and swell, bloat corpse-like.
    Like Kronos, it swallows its children.
    Like Python, too slow
    To outrun.

I have felt the heavens rioting.
I have felt it.
I feel it in my sweat.
    Infinite, infinitesimal, homeless,
    Dark Carbon eats sunbeams raw,
    Vomits and thrashes.

Where are they, 
The green homes of heaven’s multitudes?
             Les lauriers sont coupés.
Where are they,  
The diamond-decked thesauri of bygone empires?
             Atque ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant.

Listen!  Here is a story.

Once upon a time
     Before anything was named —
          No kingdom, nor phylum, nor title.
Once upon a time
    When wild sunbeams were tamed
         Like gentling a colt to the bridle.
Once upon a time
    When only grace obtained,		
         For everything that was, was vital…

 There lived a ridiculous Mouse
 Who begat a foolish Ape
 Who begat an orgulous Man.

 And that is how it all began.

The middle, you know:
     Prodigius ex machina unloosed;
The chaos in heaven fought;  
     And no deus ex machina produced
     To frown, wave, restore the status quo—
          This story is too well wrought.

But it is not going to be a sad story.

We do not know the ways the tale will turn,
    And we suffer, living its recital.
But the theme and justice are etched upon our blood and brain:
    The erring hero will return,
    A little wiser from exile and pain.

For everything that is, is vital.