Implicitly the Cosmos has design,
Just as I hold the pattern in my mind
Of how this sonnet’s feet and rhymes align
With where some latent motive is inclined.
One cannot see the sonnet’s form until
It’s filled with what at last grows manifest,
Expressing clearly its inherent will
Confined till then within its covert chest.
In fact just as this poem’s lines emerge,
The universe at large evolves in time
When motive, mass and energy converge
As readily as reason does with rhyme.
Consider then the universe as verse
Writ large; or this the universe, but terse.