The Blank Page

The Blank Page

The blank page, world waiting to be born, anew.
But different?
Wouldn’t you
Be different, given the chance?
Lust, allure, musk, romance
Askew?

September’s sun would shine as bright, no doubt
But rain
To dampen your bright redoubt,
Pain to feed the
Spotted brown trout in your streams,
Or fishless dreams would they be?

Would bulldozers mar your gentle hills
With swaths broad,
Reshape the land,
Add value with dirt fills here
Rather than there?
And

“beep beep beep”

In their plunder
Keeping us clear as they tear asunder
Clanking treads like dirty thunder

“beep beep beep.”

God as Author
Author as God

It does indeed make you wonder…