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The world has rushed past again, as a river,
Blindly; waters that move with an inbuilt
Volition, a swarming whose blood is silt
Corpuscular, blood red in veins; a fever
Driving, swelling the ranks, forcing to lever
Open an end state of calm, in itself
Eternal, fixed, like a book on a shelf
Whose countless energies deliver
Static repose: so does our toil and ferment
Reduce; what at the time is blood and thunder,
A split open sky, will like broken china
Gathered in time reversal itself mend.
Peace is the sink where actions are dissolved;
Strive after it, or not, it is resolved. |
