Hast, yet, thee found on toilsome, trembling ground
a path thy moving feet may walk in earn’st
(whereinsofar thy nature circleth round
by brash and blindly pathing, here, thou durn’st)

would’st thence, by hearken unto chiming bell
of holiest incumbent owner’s place,
thine acrimony in thy bespoke hell
of handed, wrought creation be erased

Could’st, in transcending evanescent sight
to see the world erode in passing tides,
the soul bestowed but lost in darkest night,
there come again to sit where mind resides

When heart resounds in union with the eyes,
and salubrious joy might be restored,
there dissipate egoic source’s lies;
by life, may life again become adored

Subsist in thine existence, whose intake
should evermore sustain thy thirsting heart
Forever curiosity be slaked
by mindful making of the soulful art