4087. IN PLACE OF ALL GOLD

IN PLACE OF ALL GOLD

At the witching hour, like this it comes : dark

shadows and the wistful fall of night. We've left

the words behind  -  those are things for

horticulturalists and those scientific types

with their lists and categories and definitions.

I never walked a step in that muck, for fear

of soiling my shoes. Look around you; that's

really all it takes. State of mind? Not mine.

-

I've tried science and found it wanting. I've

tried religion and laughed it off  -  all those

spiritual moments of Yves Tanguy and

Rosicrucian madness, Swedenborg, Blake

and Steiner. Art makes the grade, only then it

too fails as money gets its ugly face involved.

Nothing is what nothing does. How's that?

-

Now, instead of Death I'm just settled in :

I can ride this wagon until the wheels are

gone, and then coast this broken chassis

to the bottom of the hill. As I see it, that

will do, until.....the real gold rises up.