Is It Thus?

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Is It Thus?

Sonnet

Is it thus, at the transition of an age,
The withdrawal of norm and decorum?
A surfeit of dismantling and change,
A subtraction of units from every sum?

Swapped are the seasons for a welter,
Lashing all in a hail of recurrent storms,
Or to suffocate breath by barren winter
Any manner of motion in living forms?

These the terms of our living surrender,
Thought suspended and will abandoned?
Now roaming like a song sans hearer 
Or a wild prophecy that will not be told.

Make up Thy mind, or reconsider Thy method,
Or lend Her the reins and to all Her processes bold.