For the Old Gnostics

The Fathers put their trust in the end of the world And they were wrong.   The Gnostics were right and not Right.   Dragons copulate with their knobby tails. Some somnolent wealth rises unconcerned, Over there!   In the world!   Ponderous stubborn Sorrow weighs down the flying Gospels. Some enormous obstacle blocks our way. The untempered soul grumbles in empty light.