Stand before the universe.
Be erect of character, firm in faith
if you want - interrogate almighty
gods - demand or be supplicant -
its all the same. From ancient
dark corners of primate past
(huddled for warmth, wary of common
enemies) to chromium silver
bumpers on wheeled cocoons (speeding
the paved arteries of there to there)
man refers all in measure to himself,
or eternal gods, and still its all the same.
In chaos look for consolation through
the enigma of activity: Count the beads
of faith, dance before the tribal totem,
march from jihad to jihad, embrace the
enigma of yin and yang. Gather the acorns
of possession, master the arts, learn war or
learn learning, its all the same, again all the same.
What scale between the life of a man and
limitless time exists? Here an inch of meaning,
there a gram of purpose? Only within, named long
ago that unsatisfactory algebra, the soul, blooms or
withers each according to kind and ability,
always and ever the same, the same.