
Sheep.
Head to the earth
Back to the sky
A life filled with the
Now-ness
of the present is all you require
Surrounded by nature as nature intended
A journey between here
and there
that you will never make
A train carriage with
it’s lonely occupant,
the concept of whom you
cannot conceive of
The contemplation of truth,
and desire and rules –
and whether there can be
any rules in desire, and whether
the presence of
desire is not its own
truth,
or rhetoric –
are contemplations you
will never have, having
no psyche to mediate
the instinctive
Nor conscience
Your failings, insofar
as failings are not
a human construct, are
all yours – and you claim them
in a way that drives
the existentialist to envy
No parent you blame for
preferring him and not Him,
knowing that
love is no obligation, and that
‘blame’ is not the word –
nor will they ever be
But you are a simple creature, and
your simplicity affords you
no choice – for which
you may
graze on in graceful gratitude
For all my misery,
in my complexity,
I rejoice
and give thanks.
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