THE MAN WITH THE HOE

Bowed by the weight of centuries
He leans upon his hoe and gazes on the ground
The emptiness of ages on his face
And on his back the burden of the world
A thing that dreams not and never hopes
Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox

Who loosened and let down that brutal jaw
Who's was the hand that slanted back this brow
Whose breath blew out the light within this brain
Is this the thing the Lord God made and gave
To have dominion over sea and land
To chart the stars and search the heavens for Power

Is this the dream he dreamed
Who shaped the suns and marked their way
Upon the ancient deep
Down all the caverns of hell
There is no shape more terrible than this
More tongued with censure of the worlds blind greed
More filled with signs and portents for the soul
More packed with danger to the universe