It is of no use to ask why birds commend
the spirit of a day, nor how near their song
gets to sunlight.
We waken to such things, we come to avail
as an open sky...there is no question of
forbearance.
Unmoved as diamonds without valuation,
the light of day...the unseen inner light that
is not day.
The eyes open, and the feeling that sinks as
yet rises--the first and last Frontier can be
seen at once.
Light is before flesh and bone, light is after flesh
and bone...the sun is merely our concentration.


Konstantinos Mark