The Infinitude Of The Private Man Poem by Hannington Mumo

The Infinitude of the Private Man

What fetters will chain the legs of man,
If the Creator himself so much liberty gave?
No prison can contain the ethereal soul of man
For his free-roaming self cuts across like a trave.

Which death will erase the footprints
Of the private man who does his wild share
And takes a rest behind his indelible shadowed self?
You may think he’s dead, but he’s always there.

The infinitude of the private man has no predator
Other than the artificial systems of a rehearsed society;
For if the tastes of the mortal kind were alone let to wander
The world wouldn’t be so full of the present non-working piety.

The infinitude of the private man has no known foe
Except the vain chase after the universal support;
If the chariots of independent thought were let to fly
The world would mingle with the heavens in a spurt.

So let the waves of the human mind follow their wild paths
And let all the ancient creeds be tested against the logical,
Accept all the mistakes that freedoms may occasionally commit,
And see how the infinitude of the private man is practical.