Forgive the Seekers
They just have too much
Of dancing flame
Which turns limp clay of bodies into stone
So they stand straight, so that they can
Endure the quest.
As flies in honey stuck in time
They struggle
In strait-jacket of seconds
They revolt
In shackles of duty,  fetters called normal life
They strive
They dream
Of glory generous and vast as starry sky
To wrap their tired souls  

The clocks keep ticking ominously fast
Time-bombs familiar to all, death overlooked
Who hears them but the Seekers, wide awake
As soldiers,
Incurable ill,
And parting lovers.
They shed their skins as snakes do every year
For us to pick and wonder at, try on and keep –
Their books or paintings,
Bridges, wars, or songs.
They leave them easily and change as infants change,
From day to day
Who knows them knows
Their truth that was, and never what will be
And only wind can be their companion  
As fast, as mutable
A wanderer as they
As true