“She Knows She Knows So Little”
She knows she knows so little and even fewer see,
Or should the inverse be to serve the world; magnified,
Then, be the sight, and keener still, the diligence and pursuit, the urge to fly,
To float intentions and the mere suggestion of abstracts launched in fleets
As questions never fail to rise; but of course, in this world there is no rest;
There’s always more. Questions spawning questions will
Suffice in futures’ nests and past residuals the contexts for still
Small voices just as bells from Hell will drown a lion’s roaring texts.
There are, of course, as always ready answers, waxed and chloroformed,
For sale in the offing here; she merely asks, her interrogatives seine
For truths that skim the natural foam of oceans or knead the stains
Of cold cognition as yeasts will burn in turn
to breads of thought more easily absorbed.
Within a single glyph, a cliff from which her past visions shrink and scorn;
If not from this ship, then yet another barque of endless thought is born.
…drawing at top by Elia Vzquez-daz-Belloso;
painting at bottom by Steve Mills…