The Method

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The Method

Poem

First were wrested heart’s cherished things
Of sweet face and clear eyed simplicity,
They who swallowed my world completely.
Dire and vehement were those beginnings.

Then snatched crutch and prop of education,
That knower of reason’s little artifice,
Severed then cords of matter’s accomplice
Preparing by chaos the soul’s redemption.

Then a long preparation’s lone wandering curve
Through chance and tomes and rumination
Seeding heart and mind for subtle assignation
By alarm and wonder and despair and woe.

Then the gambit to toss material gains,
The little foundation of ego’s stability
Struck with a silent will’s capacity
Turning my sight to far new destinations.

Then the assault on all my known method,
Processes learnt and their cherished trophies.
Ripped old modes and means that atrophies,
Memory vanished and by intuition substituted.

Now I wander light and free like a thought
Or a carefree bird through the wide azure,
Only move me impulsions white god-pure
Or I sit immobile like a reluctant clod.

O Ancient, by Thy ruinations most complete
I now stand pristine, luminous and resplendent.