Dread Not - Sonnet Poem by Patti Masterman

Dread not, that fickle time knows not your name;
Nor fear, that vanquished age will stake its claim:
For evolution is the game of life,
It soothes our ancient wounds, it ends all strife.

The dust knows more than paltry men may learn,
The end to all our future enterprise-
But holds its stony tongue, lest we discern
We're drowned, beneath an earthly weight of lies.

Our fantasies and dreams; but sediment,
Our darting eyes are full of nothing real,
And we can have no notion where they went,
And so our lies, from rancid truth we steal.

We would at once all things save love, impeach
If we could view ourselves from heaven's reach.