FATE

The soul has no need of your orrery,

as it trundles through Infinity.

No soothsayer need I, nor ancient, 

arcane tablets, nor your

capricious clay gods' fragile devices. 

Crystal balls and sortilege could not

divine my earthly course,

nor unveil Fate's shape and source,

nor spae cosmic decree

to prehensile mortal eye and mind.

A mere speck could not fathom great

Providence, nor augur and 

assign redeeming ordinance. I would

seek Her design in Nature's

emblems, in the Seasons' sacred circle.

Seers of antiquity told of Destiny's leaf,

each vein, node and space

vivid, yet brief; each path leading to

luminous bourns, thence to

merge into silent repose and renewal.

Of immanent harmony in all they spoke, 

of a Light that every spirit woke,

of glad accord betwixt preordination and

will, of the soul's yearning  

to become the sacred music of the stars.

© 2015 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

Image: THE CRYSTAL BALL

Source: commons.wikimedia.org

Artist: John William Waterhouse