Shock

Now a profound imbalance shakes the skies

And notables who say "we are the wise"

Cry "fluid, warmth and poppy-rest and care"

And credit better result than anywhere

The ages count. Still a new mystery

Questions each answer they cannot prevent;

New doubts enter doors out of which the old ones went

And three is still one and one still is three.

The gates are loosened and the flood tides fall:

Tonus-where is Tonus-he has left-

The academicians bite off their thread bereft

And thread new needles quick and indignantly;

Vis Medicatrix Naturae, where is she?

Last seen, she too strode meads of asphodel.