Poets

In what sense I am I a minor observer

"If you open the brain from whence sprang Solomon and Aristotle and separate the lips in the fissure of Sylvius

What can be compared to the living eye? Its East is flowering honeysuckle and its North dogwood bushes. What can be compared to light in which leaves darken after rain, fierce green? like Rousseau's jungle: any minute the tiger head will poke through the foliage peering at experience. Who is like man sitting in the cell of referents, whose eye has never seen a jungle, yet looks in? It is the great eye, source of security. Praised be thou, as the Jews say, who have engraved clarity and delivered us to the mind where you must reign severe as quiddity of bone forever and ever without bias or mercy, attrition or mystery.