The subtle dandruff of high heaven's head
Flakes down upon us in a gentle shower
Revealing in its albatory power
How fast all of our life is overspread
By what we can't control. We see instead
That which we cannot rule begin to flower
And turn our own creation not quite sour
But merely insignificant. We shed
The kind illusion that our lives make sense
And see the way the world can mock our works,
Covering the proudest with pure white,
Revealing strength unknown and yet immense
Behind which who knows what contrivance lurks
Beyond our knowledge yet within our sight.
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