Far-cast through the eons,
The worlds were forged aright
By no chanceling-peon,
But the Lord of light:
The bright One swung no hammer,
Nor used flame or tong,
But only divine grammar
Slipping from the tongue.
Light and form and beauty
Made He with a thought
Brought to voice: not duty,
But with great love wrought.
Life and love and laughter
Made He with his own:
"Happily ever after!",
In space's fabric sown!
This poem won first place for the
September 2022 poetry contest