Revel and mirth—rim to rim
is it where existence rushing
to enter only to exit is clasped,
enfolded by the shadow of a dream
when one lucky verse or a mere nod
that tilts the earth along with her head
can tap the streaming joy and so they tip
the heavy hollowness of soulless death?
Then let it be this: as in poetry, so in love,
in the fullness of the presence that grows deep,
it’s where a soul does truly meet a soul and lives.
And here too is the key to the Obsolescence
of the Divine Oracles—once lovers and poets
get it right—Gods too will assent again to sing!
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