The Great Affair is change,
Valleys and peaks, fractures and plain
and there are no straight rows, ever
As if the plow is bent and bent again
as we lean away to accommodate
It urges in us the ghost of direction

We are only alive and seeking
with new colors, the new story,
The scent of the atmosphere changes and
the Sun rises to a vast glory

All the abundant mystery
will be lost to us at some place,
years from now, wanting less, our sight dim
we will ensconce the whole and the taste
and only learn by heart.