Between desire and possibility,
Flows opportunity. Between love
And loss floats some disutility.
~The Shah of Athabasca
As far as eyes see,
What's lost is uncertainty;
Perhaps a tribute
Paid by the same torrent:
What mystery?
All the same, never fate be
Where hope runs dry,
At the mercy of dreams to die.
Perception is the public self
Don't you know:
Choice is God's gift,
And decision is our torment;
And time is that wheel,
Riding those divine railways...
'By the way, about that bridge...'
Might there be a single currency,
You think, over galactic years?
It is indeed too bad we can't deal
With all the world's ill in one setting:
All seven sins, in just so much time.
With all the visions,
And revisions...alas,
Indifference is the grease
That expedites our(downward?)
Spiral of despair;
Precluding the friction to obviate
Resolution toward repair.
The truly heard are
Not among the veritably haunted.
'There will be time,
There will be time'
Not to have to justify,
In place of incurable possibilities,
The impossible!
But to vindicate death
Is to love that dream
Through fiery muds
Of hell's delayed truth...
Conditional, or worse, arbitrary
Love (of life), unlike death (of love).
After all (the same),
Love is...where God lies:
Free of choices,
Silently sailing seas of choices.
~Victor Imari, 1997
