Through epiphanies in being's time,
We know when immortal line
Escapes construction of the mortal mind.
We know even common man
Can feed the fire of the soul,
Send up the leap of flame,
That sends out the flash of light
Into the chilling, mortal night
The arrogant, civil tongue calls culture.
We know when words,
Older than civil mind,
Escape storms of novelty
To flash their light.
We glimpse truth's glistening flow
Through commercial, allocated daze;
Yet, leash our tongue to sanctioned ways
Not to make a show.
edited from poem in
The Last Human Spring '02
