It Is Not Enough

Quite apart from anything to touch, more is an increment that lies behind the consciousness, to swell the mind with new imagining, inexhaustible—thriving in its sacrifice just as a fountain throws its treasure to the sky. Still as a vision never seen before and nevermore returning, haste to burn it into mind and then away, away across the clover fields to seek the wooded edge aglow with inspiration's light. It is just such fantasy as that to feed a passion where reality emerges from a thought created, just as God ex nihilo sought out the earth, the dew upon the ground, the misty heaven, the distant haze of peace. In dulci jubilo, the endless questions form the ziggurat of humankind's delight— the endless answering a sacred palindrome of an eternal life. ~