The tour is far, the route adverse
our quests beset with balk and woe.
Most outcomes of our toil obverse
and greed shall tax what seed we sow.
Today, great rivers test our mind
that desert plains tomorrow be
lush pastures vast and unconfined;
more fertile than the plundered sea.
Tomorrow’s walls we need transcend
should man aspire to touch the stars;
at cost mere kings can’t comprehend,
untranquil mist our wisdom bars . . .
Whilst dreams yet dreams may long remain,
we’ll dream our God-games just the same.Edit 1
This sonnet peeps into mankind’s indomitable will to master his environment at all cost, against adversity and setback. Although the wisdom of such endeavors could at times be questionable, without dreams we are nothing.
Copyright WW Schwim 22 July 2014