(for Monica Tol)
The Wisest of the Emperors gave thanks
At the commencement of his self-directed
Notes. On a firm foundation lay the planks
Of that impressive edifice, perfected
Not so much in the dots that it connected
As in the Heaven that it showed on high.
In his tent, as his body’s cells defected,
The Emperor revealed the brilliant sky.
Yet does his genius truly satisfy?
What he thanked was as vague as any cloud.
Equivocation? No. Still less a lie—
But who would shout that name of God aloud?
Those notes were glorious – yet somehow hollow.
The God Augustus thanked the God Apollo.
Have a Blessed Thanksgiving!
28 November 2013