The infinite being
The infinite knowing
The never ceasing
The everlong going
Can not be diminished
Though some will say so
And since “it is finished”
The striving should go
For strive as you may,
It’ll only cause strife
So enter this day
Your free gift of life!

•••
Gingerly walking on the ceiling
This place is wrong-way-round

And I can't help this feeling
That my logic isn't sound

The older I get, the less I know,
My perceptions,
You
Confound
.

Red orange glow
Flits around the base
As plumes now rise
Toward darkened skies
 
Skin on knees and
Chest and face
Seems to tighten
And we delight in
 
Atavistic desire
To master its use
This lovely fire
Of pine and spruce

?
Ten days of silence
Then you whisper a word
A single puzzle piece
Is all that is heard
So cryptic, so soft
And what does it mean
When ciphers are scoffed
And wisdom obscene
?

!
Just hold it and wait
You’ll see one fine day
A lightbulb will light
You will see the way
Things fit in place
In crystalline form
The sear of that face
And the dust, and the worm
!

.
The art can get wet
And the artist can see
If the hand can forget
That the master is free
When playing the part
Of the folks in his game
With sight for the blind
New strength for the lame
.