In Knowledge

Dunno what's it about
Myself that makes me
Ask the things
I do.

At last I know, I hear
At last it is said to me
that he is
He.

Take my pat, precious cat
Be thankful you've not torn down
Rose plants emerging from choppy waters --

As you did so
Five years ago.

For fortune is not for you,
No, nor chance the enabler of your choice
Lack is not too great a loss to handle
When will wields all works

And I, dear love, I
Am a pure acetylene virgin
Attended by lilies, by you, by Him
By him, and you
And you and him

To love myself
To know
that not all the past is forgotten
And not that easily unlearnt.
And that is courage for a newer day.

(In celebration of 1 Tim 6: "Yet true religion with contentment is great wealth. ⁷After all, we didn't bring anything with us when we came into the world, and we certainly cannot carry anything with us when we die. ⁸So if we have enough food and clothing, let us be content.")

Indeed.

N.B. I took line 18 from Sylvia Plath's Fever 103 degrees for intertextual effect. Feel free to infer whatever you need to from the intertextuality. That Plath was writing as a female and I as a male can have some significance, actually.

--Dan, Mar 2005