Author of Creation,
Were your masterpiece WoMan,
Whose humble crown could down descend,
To superficial pools of women and men,
Recreating in Love to duly remend,
Laughable sense of Sin, Sex, and Skin,
All Godly Precision not fulfilling them.

Too literal the beasts, they, You, breed,
Into crystal veiled reality,
An insanity for certainty, curtaining,
Profoundly plain necessity,
Nothing else forgets to see,
That to be, is to be equally.

T.W. Jolin