Good Will

Good Will, my happy friend by Kant intoxicated:
Why do some people make living so complicated?
I want to visit him, but he was left and let his key
My poor house is open forever,  for friends like thee.
I come when you do not expect, you know me…
I water my garden, so you may drink an ice tea.
Sometime he would come back,, I say, with a look 
-And somewhat admiring it for all the time it took
To add  his heart with so inexhaustible feeling
On the walls –only five, including the written ceiling
Pretty adorned with renewed Adornian thought,
His little room with about all he'd been taught:
 Invisible inscriptions are hanging from the sky,
Promised Land grapes where half our memories lie;
Ink on sheets making happy half- losers ,the winners
When  gods  still look in pleasure on penitent sinners. 
While men for whom time stretches out so painfully
Are waiting Godot, disappointed at not finding fully
Golden tomorrow already continuing  yesterday:
Not ripen fruit, more than enough to stay today.
Life has become the ideology of its own absence,
And all the rest is empty words or long silence.
Philosophy which can be responsibly practiced 
Except the noble romance of the kiss at  sunset,
To face despair is the attempt to contemplate all things, 
A nest of stars, beneath untroubled dreams and wings.
As they would present the horizon of redemption.
Once, when society insisted on the exertion of will; 
Only love was supposed  to be up a the pathless hill;
Thus,  so involuntary, and pure immediacy of feeling 
In its longing for this forgot transparent  meaning.
He who has loved and who betrays this one love 
Does harm both future and past immaculate glove.

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