In reply to a beautiful note sent to me…
Yes, well, after all, at least for you and me
There’s everything and all and even more through truth and honesty;
We grope at times, yes! but never quite make or break the call
From perfection to perfection gaining ground then risking all.
But, there’s the rub, the same for everyone who breathes
To live and not the other way around: as boiling lava seethes
So, too, the will from time to time relieves itself, erupts and then must cool
To build tomorrow’s fortress in the season’s rut. Know that fools
And angels build as well on sand as on a known caldera
Seeing safety’s but a syllable, a symbol, chimera
Of the mind or possibly a maxim born of boredom
And nothing more than light conversation over hay or sorghum
With a denizen of Hell, itself, who’s merely waiting for a train,
And you with no umbrella to protect you from the evening rain.