Arete,
A mountain’s peak.
The image upon which
my gaze is laid.
Your hats are sharp, lopsided.
Connections undivided
as if the edges are the spilth
of what’s originally planned:
generic blueprint of it all
known only to eyes
And ears that are open.

Arete, stay there.
Cleanse their sight
Dispelling clouds of doubts.
Reveal the entry left behind
the unimaginable youth and
bring us to a higher truth.