An Ocean Without Parameters Poem by Mark Heathcote

What is this Eden they all talk of?
Who can recall that old proverb?
A bird in the hand,
Take these humble, beginnings

Isn't the throbbing of a breast?
A firebrand: the brocades, broach?
A flower, burning with; hot desire.
What could be more meaningful?

What is the meaning? The meaning
Of eternity—
Without; time or place?
Like a musical box, without music.

Or an ocean without parameters,
What is this driftwood, existence?
Life without end: without death.
Without meter or rhyme!

Surely heaven has no sustenance.
As subsidence, only creates gluttony.
‘It's endless, unquenchable, greed'.
Surely our appetites wouldn't exceed

Their entire confounded constraints.
And, then what non-mortal loathings
Would we be, in this Garden of Eden?
Dreamed; unpardonable, and yet free.