R.H. Nicholson
Ode to Gray, Master of Disguise
You magnificent
sprite of nuance,
rolling in the
uncertainty
of daybreak,
heralding the morn
without a sound,
bridging the vagaries between
afternoon and evening,
betwixt light and dark,
right and wrong,
love and hate,
wedged in the tentativeness of
life,
brume curling around us
with possibility
and promise,
hope and dread,
yes and no,
sin and salvation,
a fog lifting,
a dream rising,
a wish drifting,
never resolved
nor settled,
always maybe,
you are a smokescreen to
truths we cannot bear
straightaway,
an enigmatic energy force
that lingers in doubt,
a ghost haunting our
decisions,
the arbiter of
ambivalence,
a cloak of mystery,
the quintessence
of nobility,
and the conciliator
of compromise.
I salute your hidden
prowess,
your impartiality,
balanced scale
of justice,
calm demeanor, and
desultory
whimsy.