To Contradict the Wise

To Contradict the Wise


The madness of the muse is ever-spent
On bringing tears to anger that is rent
Across the tearing heart and tearing eyes
Of champions who have seen the Mysteries.

The Mysteries, they are too much to bear
By mortal mind or soul or have you where?
This one is but to contradict the wise,
And that is for perplexity of size.

Too broad, too wide–recursive is the way
Upon which masters try and fall away
For it is for the meek and humble one
To follow and not ask if we are done.

What worth is there in all the worldly mind?
For simple is the Truth, and Love’s way–fine!

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