August 31, 2010

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    New

     

    Here then in this transient garden it is met

    This end of soul-sight once distant in conception

    Is effected with ease

    The end of the sentimental - The end of the obvious

    And with as much ease a serenity commences

    As leaves are torn from momentary branches

    And ground to immaterial dust

     

    So bent upon the soul

    Pierced forgotten

    This intagible is drawn from within

    Given reason - Given purpose

    And whatever it becomes - It will be absolute

    Desiring only with dreams as build-blocks

    To discern the intagible without

     

    Pitiful mouse in this mouldering maze

    Why do you screech for exit?

    Is it not left for you  - The New

    To smash the broken conceptions

    And give meaning to movement?

     

    Can it be these corrupted masses

    Like dead grasses shall rekindle their seed?

    Will you feel their vigor? - Spaceless unknown?

    Will you be tempted by their enfeebled attempts

    Those whimpers of stalwart articulates

    Those shouts of the weak the meek?

     

    Yes you - The New

    Together with a very Few

    Will you be flung upon the withered concept

    To destroy it with your wounds as weapons?

     

    An inward wind has begun to sweep the silenced masses

    As dead grasses - Suddenly alert

     

    It rolls over the hopelessness

    Thundering messages

    Flee!

    Desert it all!

     

    It will change

    It will come when the blinded claw the walls to dust

    When all will change

     

    Rush back to the savage lash

    To the natural cradle where it was conceived