THE meek


Fury cavorts like river dancers
raging like fire or whitecaps: the tips
bullwhip crack, erasing graph edges.
The spleen full of purple blood pulses;
the liver floods the ducts with black bile;
and the heart breaks for the defenseless.
The strong have the edge, double-bladed;
in Darwinian darkness: Gnostic
sin that darkens all molecules.
Magma percolates under the crust,
explosive din of ancient belief,
thinking that volume overpowers
justice; however, the meek gain numbers
and sponsors exponential for progress
into starshine that banishes shadow:
the meek will—finally—inherit the Earth.

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