By whose judgment, by whose values, by whose god?
Each week The Sunday Whirl invites writers to write a poem or short prose using some or all of the “wordle’s” 12 words. This week it is:
When you say there is a government
that is able to save a man’s soul,
When you claim an executive
who will harvest the best grains from the fields,
When you whisper of a state
which can exist with such splendor
as to rattle a plain man’s hold on his own
Then I shall ask, What breeze
shall be tossed from whose lips to gather up that soul?
Then all men should impugn, By whose tool
will those best grains be bent from the fields?
And all sane men must plead, Whose gaze
will perceive those splendid skins of governance?
Authority is the secular convenience of men,
making life tolerable, perhaps enjoyable,
hopefully equitable, but not
a cross, a chalice, or a conclave.