Australian poet, Formal poetry, Natural laws, Natural order, Order, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Wedgetail Eagle
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬
All things are ordered — why then is this so?
All can be calculated, all comply
With laws of nature. All the things that grow
From out the earth and all that walk, and fly,
And swim, and too, the rocks, the clouds, the sky —
No thing escapes these fundamental laws.
Rock decomposes, living creatures die,
Clouds cloak the sky, and down the rain it pours,
According to the laws — the eagle soars
Upon wings of incredible design —
Each feather is a wonder without flaws.
Is order flowing from a source divine,
Or do these laws exist by accident?
By God or accident — they’re heaven-sent.
— D.N. O’Brien