In Praise of Aquinas

Take, great tailor in black and white,
A single thread. Guide it aright
Through a maelstrom of sewing swords
(Each knit a thought, each purl a word),
As a diver from above falls
Twisting from airborne obstacles
(Between him and his water-right)
In a seemingly powered flight

Run, O massive lordly dog
Unfailing through the obscure fog
That sits about your seeked Goal
Like earth-tunnels conceal a mole.
Run and smell, and think and run
Until your fair task is done.
For as a Master is your prize:
Lady Wisdom, Truth undisguised.

Sit, O mountain of dizzying height
By hearth and plate, where sits a bite
Of inconspicu's ed'ble grain
(Type matters not: see, eat, be sane)
Have leisure in this thrice-small place
Where there is time to contemplate.
Set your genius upon this road
And be a tailor, mount, and dog.