I am compelled to write
Like so many poets before me
A passion unexplored
Elusive and slippery
Like wet raindrops through my oily fingers
Seeing gloom and doom and cold
Intermixed with love and joy and warmth
In the inexplicable concoction of this world
This abundance of yin and yang
Which has filled the mind and breath of poets
Since Eden’s first word
A mission, a duty, to understand.
Letting muses form moments of sensual epiphany
But ultimately failing to unwind the web of God.