Oh, My Galt

The elements of man’s creativity so largely grow
The elements forget themselves if they be so.
The earth sees buildings rise into the air,
By it, alone, could not be planted there;
The sky beholds fleet wings of metal fly
That it could not invent them would they try.
Planets, stars, and spheres of colored light
Wonder at new glory of man’s height.
The smallest atoms, always danced apart,
Increduled be by man to touch and smart.
And water, air and fire become perplexed
In wondering, “Oh my Galt, what will be next?”
That “next” runs sure in reasoning mind of man,
Who always aims for better than he can.

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s