Truth—is as old as God—
His Twin identity
Could I—then—shut the door—
Lest my beseeching face—at last—
Finite—to fail, but infinite to Venture—
For the one ship that struts the shore
Except to Heaven, she is nought.
Except for Angels—lone.
I many times thought Peace had come
When Peace was far away—
For this—accepted Breath—
Through it—compete with Death—
Artists wrestled here!
Lo, a tint Cashmere!
Sweet Mountains—Ye tell Me no lie—
Never deny Me—Never fly—
Cocoon above! Cocoon below!
Stealthy Cocoon, why hide you so
By such and such an offering
To Mr. So and So,