The synthesis of form
Is not as some have thought
A process whereby time
Unwravels the intentions
Of a hidden creator.
But removing the teleological
Source of all life
Does not make the universe
Cold and lifeless,
Merely reveals the ignorance
Of these warm bubbling creatures
Who want to know
But must relentlessly accept
The limitless possibility
Of a movement without end.
To seek enlightenment
In transcendantal knowledge
Is a fiction. For reason
Is an instrument
Not a divine law,
And everyone knows
That instruments are often
Tarnished by imperfection,
They must be strung in tune,
To a harmonic scale,
That eerie wind from without.