She is incomparably omnipotent, is Madam
Capricious, both landlady and housekeeper
with whom a signed, sealed and delivered
covenant graciously allows us permit to dwell
provisionally within her capacious holdings.
She in whom we trust has her admirers vying
to emulate her brilliance for she is also truly
unparalleled the fulcrum about which revolves
all that is known and unknown. An artist whom
all others with the ambition to follow succeed
only in rendering pale imitations for she is also
the supreme creatrix of all that is and will ever be.
In her moods she is unpredictable, given to the
unexpected in turn giving rise to fear sharing
space with adoration. Take, for example the latest
of her aberrations foisted upon unready humanity
a blight so fearsome all that is familiar in the
social order she has ordained is disrupted. And
even while the scourge of a stealth virus stalks
the Earth she daintily dips her brush in vibrant hues
of brilliant colour painting the landscape offering
pleasure to the creatures convinced they have
been abandoned to contend with her power
enabling a dread pathogen to drift amongst us
as an act of devilish mischief, an admonishing
lesson to surrender the conceit that humanity's
interference with her divine creations elevates
the common to the divine. For she will not
tolerate arrogance deserving of retribution.
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