Let Others Probe The Mystery If They

Reason? That Dreary Shed, That Hutch For Grubby Schoolboys.

I Wish I Could Find An Event That Meant As Much As Simple Seeing.

We Think By Feeling. What Is There To Know?

What Falls Away Is Always. And Is Near.

What's Madness But Nobility Of Soul At Odds With Circumstance? The Day's On Fire! I Know The Purity Of Pure Despair, My Shadow Pinned Against A Sweating Wall, That Place Among The Rocks--is It A Cave, Or Winding Path? The Edge Is What I Have........ ....... Dark,dark My Light, And Darker My Desire. My Soul, Like Some Heat-maddened Summer Fly, Keeps Buzzing At The Sill. ~from "the Waking" By Theodore Roethke