I feel I cannot think
Of My Self alone
As wise
For there can be no wise One alone
I am not wise
I am a child of suffering
Whose childful yearning
Is to lighten the load
Imposed by those who goad
Us on our way
By means of fearful refutation
Of all that they might seek to find
I cannot grow up
For in that adulteration
I encounter devastating poverty
A desertion of the spirit
That pools us all together
In the recreative communion
Of our natural neighbourhood
Can our rational pursuit
Serve any better purpose
Than to chase what we seek
Further
And further
and further
Away?
If we were only to loosen
Those unforgiving means and ends
The hardline limits of denial
By which we close down on our prey
We could release the life that loves
Our child’s play