Involved and not by chance

If we were feathers, I’d take you to the river;
Then the lake where I was made.
Me the lamentable sludge dwarf.
The emergent one, from primordial slime.
Where chemists’ now tingle at signs of evolution.

And the swollen seeds seep, 
As does dreamy sap from my toxic glands.
On and into the four fathoms from which
I evolved, then actually drowned,then up.
To be locked in Gods' heart.

Now I stoop like a Hawk,
Dancing to my Will.
I have hold of no string.
I am strong and free.
I am no longer a beggar.

© 2018  Christopher Thompson  Written in England