All In Good Time

The agenda is hers. Hers the blueprint
and hers the ritual of endless cycling
for all that exists is of her essence and
design, faultless and exquisite even
the ephemera of transitory existence
nothing wasted, everything that she has
produced eternally shapes and shifts
degrades and is reconstituted over
uncountable ages of which time is but
a mirage. Yet we in our illusionary
view as her master design feel ourselves
entitled to critique and to rail and to
fault the architecture of the universe
down to the very last microscopic
detail found in our microsphere of
existence imagining ourselves the apex
of creation, the very final and most
complex of all organisms, an intelligence
so refined there are no challenges to our
mastery of all we survey. Yet it is nature
whose creation is infinite and divine
we but arrogant disputants arrogating to
ourselves claims of cerebral powers 
equal to the designs of the mistress of
creation. She who benevolently permits
humankind to enter her laboratory as a
visitor until such time as that presence
becomes an invasion, the consequences 
a wholesale expulsion, existence denied.