lying ready to the hand
one’s life to oneself again
was it always this way
always going to be this way
the dull ache the rhythmic rememebering
the sense of loss when nothings has died
if creating things into the world the joy of that the wonder of that
were known to predispose to this loneliness
nothing would get done
would we sit quietly enjoy without the earnest creating
let the world be live in that greatest harmony
or as humans are we predisposed to want
therefore get therefore let go