Rant and File

Oh, fair disorder, muse of inspired minds,

Thy blessed chaos dost our thoughts unbind.

Within thy tangled web of wild designs,

We find the spark that reason oft declines.

Hail, haphazard strokes upon the page,

Where careless brush doth craft its errant age.

In thee, sweet mess, is genius’ stage,

Thou art the breath that frees us from the cage.

For in thy cluttered realm, ideas do breed,

From careless chance, great visions oft proceed.

Where polished order may withhold its seed,

Thy fertile ground gives rise to what we need.

Embrace the errant line, the fleeting thought,

For in thy tangled skein, true art is wrought.

Oh, let not order be too dearly bought,

For in thy chaos, beauty’s battle’s fought.

Thus, let us sing of thee, delightful mess,

Wherein the soul finds its own true express.

In sloppiness, we find our bold success,

And through thy charm, our hearts’ desires confess.