This is a companion-piece to “Fierce Desire,” the previous post. I hope you like this one, too. 🙂
The Fruits of Reason
It doesn’t matter what the page will say;
I feel the text is cogent. If it’s not,
I’ll deck myself with Scripture’s arsenal
And beat back all the demons in my mind.
I know that they are Legion, and I fear
Myself run wild among the ancient tombs,
Not heeding when I cut myself in rage
Or caring when my discourse makes no sense.
I follow every thought to its own end,
Remarking on the death of every flower.
My courage is not born of knowledge; no,
It is the progeny of ignorance,
Of knowing all the little that I know.
My gaze is narrow, for I gaze on ink,
Collecting every memory of joy
Like twenty freshly-ripened citrus fruits,
To squeeze them dry of all their tender truths,
To mash out all the meaning from their flesh.
I nonetheless can feel my gaunt resolve
Still stiffened, like a British bayonet;
It still stares down the starving corridors
Where rows of mindless theses line the walls.
My iron will still strikes upon the stone
Of tapped-out brain and overburdened heart.
I feel my flaring neurons waken me:
One more! If I could just write one more word,
It might fulfill the promise of my life,
The prophecy enclosed in my true name,
The endless quest for meaning and for peace.
I know that words can’t fill my hungry soul,
And concepts cannot keep me warm at night.
Their meaning lies behind the printed signs,
Because words point to love, to fond embrace,
To laughter over games, to pints of beer.
Sometimes our sentience serves to isolate,
To wall us off from feeling and from growth;
Our words and deeds must blend to form our life.
There’s nothing wrong with rationality,
But reason’s light will quickly ebb and die
Without the kindling of relationship.
The twining passions set our hearts ablaze
And light our vivid paths, like earthly stars.