PREVIOUS NEXT FIRST Legs take the road...
Pissarro's Hoarfrost
Legs take the road

Where do they take us? Legs,
some say, "Away!" while others

state: they bring us here to stay,

Mind! scratching shallowness
upon Th'Infinite depths

of Life, thinking it's chiseling Change!
upon th'Eternal tide

th'wisdomless Eye
discriminates (from amongst th'things inside)
the larger specters from th'smallest spheres

But we've already arrived!
Why do we further strive?!

riding out th'declining hills
of Greatness unbuckled in Th'

Brightness! Vastness! in th'drizzle of Silence,

the art of living that's but resembling, having

gathered enough impediments
out of Th'Barren skies, O
Hands hold--their goods
against Th'Bad: What do they make? O Hands,

(that Mind has not handled before!)
amidst that cataclysm--the Ecstasy!

the wisdomless Eye discriminates
(from among th'things outside)

upon th'shimmering supple,
virtues like ribbons

& bowtied, running down all Th'sums
of things it has collected

out of th'frozen twilight Springs
(in quite a Fall) upon a ground un-
hinged, upon an ocean of

Hope th'hypothesis--So futile
is the building of a Ship
to take us where we already are:

Safe in th'harbor of our Start
where there's a mighty Magnitude of Light!

(making quite faint Th'Figurative Good
Earth in th'comparisons)

              our lives
are full of desperate differences
throughout: we seldom go anywhere
we can't return from, O

always trying to vanish th'Mind
by thinking it out of existence,

trying to vanquish th'ocean
by pushing it out of the way of th'land:

th'Dark (Evil only some diversion,
distraction--Good is The Only Aim)

& always setting its careful-
est gaze upon Th'Tower that climbs th'clouds

through th'strength of Man!

than on Th'Flower (whose delicate-
ness can't wear out Th'Years

of Mankind, but) which is Th'Climax!

of a whole Universe
otherwise empty of Beauty, or