Ode to the Pelican
I've wondered long, I've wondered hard,
How some things arrived where they are...
Seems, sometimes, with no rhyme or reason
An old wives' tale, "to all a season".
From Sunday school till the present
The wise discourse without dissent
On Creation's purpose and plans,
Life's hourglass with infinite sands.
The mind's attempt at recusing
Itself from discourse on the "why"...
Will be there despite all we try.
Epitomize it and attest
One design evidences best...
Pelican, flying bird or beast,
Test of Creation's virile yeast?
Isaiah said, "His thoughts aren't ours,
Nor His ways". Thistles aren't flowers,
Despite the color they portray,
Nor that bird designed, some would say!
From whence comes, such aberrations?
Within the design Creator,
While we to Him play editor?
One moment, pseudo-intellectual!
Who says ugly's non-functional,
Beak to belly, huge flapping gullet,
Imperfect if to dine on mullet?
I've wandered here and wandered there,
Circled to the start, back to where
Wondering if rhyme or reason,
Found futility in season.
copyright 1998, The Goober Tree Press, all rights reserved