Solstice Poem 2010
In thinking we think we think
So in dreaming may we dream
Recursively, the alcoholic takes the next drink
While he, poor soul, is thinking of the one after that
In a wilderness of mirrors.
Salvation is found in the poison ivy
And the poison holly, in the dark time of the year,
When Southwell was shivering in the snow
Wondering, where to go,
Wandering round and round in the railroad yard
Life is hard.
So constituted through the will of an all seeing Way,
The Sky, Tian, all-ruling,
We stumble on towards morning.