Monday, March 30, 2009

XIX Mater aut Era?

(Mother or Mistress)
The breath of power on the silent air-
She whispers with the wind and shrouds the night.
With mighty mist she flits a form so fair,
Betraying bounteous beauty to my sight!
My passion flares to see a lovely lass,
My spirit spirals speedily to her,
Yet this empiric maiden minces class,
Invented pulchritude, mechanic myrrh.
From age to age, men follow Her allure,
With Reason they seduce Her steady grace,
A masked affair, which ever will endure,
Until they look their master in the face!
Yet if, in heady haste, he waits to pray,
This silent secret sin shall pass away.
-Vir Cogitans Americanus
Scribit Dies XXI Octobribus, Anno Domini MMVII