“Sooner No Souls”
Sooner no souls may be found
Who run a single path, a single route
Toward the simple present, blossoms of a single fruit.
Who comes more than once; who goes down and in what round;
What bell spells victory, what the breath of death itself? First
And last are silent, syllables that form the final word.
Joy at birth, solace in passing, yes! There is hope and this is heard
As urgency, longing, and common thirst,
As great for one as the other, the haunting melodies
Of crowns and pariahs, exit signs—shadows,
Merely—resilient along the Salsabil among the hallowed
And tried, maladies of the novice that elude security.
This talisman is nothing more than what we cannot not see:
The certainty that what is now does not deserve eternity.