Herbert bemoaned the displacement
Of God by woman in man's estimate of beauty:
The latter's end corrupt whatever her merits
Immortalized in verse that distracted from the deity.
And Keats saw beauty as truth in a Grecian urn
Whose figures would outlive the passing times;
Not quite accurate for the vulnerability of clay
To withstand the drag of centuries as the divine.
The Nature poets too reveled in the sustainable
Periodicity of the seasons' magnificence -
The created preferred, bemoaned H, to the creator,
In a creative tide accelerating ever since.
Today, the questionable fact of God's presence
Due to His invisibility to analysis
Has made everything, including animals, a wonder
To behold, whose value is by virtue of existence.
If God is still invoked as the Creator of old
Manifest in the beauty of creation, I feel
To be beyond times and convention, for
What is faith if not the sight of what is real?
