Delphic Words

In Plato’s cave are shadows dancing like hands,
A roaring fire entrances the large-eyed  
Denizens; outside, the sun broiling the sands 
Proposes truths as tough as salt-cured hide.

In Darwin’s study, texts on writing stands

Agonise that turtles or finches, pryed, 
Might flash with that chemistry at the sea’s strands
Which jostled them into being like a tide.

What reconciles? Teilhard knits Plato’s Forms

With Darwin’s murderous facts to fling a spawn
Of consciousness through galaxies; while tough
Aquinas prises things to find the norms
Of the Mover, unopposable as dawn:
For both, the Word’s transfixion is enough.
 

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© August 2013