Saturday, November 19, 2016


The origins of humanity
Have not seemed to interest poets much.
We love the how of our perception;
We love the what. We shy from the why,
As we should. When we grow arrogant
Enough to think we can unravel
Our correlations to origins,
We tumble from what we can observe,
From the heaped-up ten thousand things sung,
Down into darkness, understanding.

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