Humanly, we have so little power,
There is much arrayed against us
That we neither see nor know.
We grow crops on the sides of volcanoes,
Paddle in the paths of tsunamis,
Build our vainglorious shelters
'Midst earthquake, fire and flood.
Calling ourselves masters of an earth
Whose inward fires would melt us,
As we hurtle through vacuums of space.
We are easily overturned.
There is another world,
World immaterial
With powers that disdain us
As flimsy specks of dust.
Powers of such malignance
Minds break to comprehend.
Powers of such horror
Tormenting for their pleasure.
We are easily overturned.
Then he comes,
Human, frail as we,
And speaks with the authority
That could stop the stars in their courses.
Not effort nor spectacle,
As one man speaks to another,
He speaks
And the demons obey.
And the world is overturned.
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