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