…And in parting from you now, thus let me avow –
You are not wrong who deem that my days are a dream.
Yet if all hope of sanity has flown away
To some kinder dimension, then what I must say
Is that there’s a much larger and complex regime
That imagines existence into here and now.
Brokenhearted I can’t be, yet somehow I am
Immersed in an enigma of shock and dismay.
If I’m part of existence, where do I belong?
This world has lost its sense of what’s right and what’s wrong.
In a vision or in none, for what do I pray?
Absolute is my feeling that life is a sham.
Of a shore surf-tormented I stand in the roar
As I hold in my hands grains of the golden sand.
How Few! Yet how they creep between my slim fingers
While I weep. As I weep, the wave rhythmic recurs.
Can I grasp with a tighter clasp of my weak hand?
They escape quickly to the sea and are no more.
Many thoughts flood the consciousness. All are the same
In a sea nonexistent with vital context.
They address a reality that can’t be real,
So, I can only go by the way that I feel.
In this pitiless wave I am much less perplexed
About what in a troubled world causes me shame.