When every path swings widely through the plain,
My Lord, come lead me in the'ternal way,
For there is naught no other love as this,
No vibrant peace nor everlasting stay,
But you, in you, all things would have a name.

Scaling now the mountain that I faced,
Of esoteric symbols and requests,
To prove the trivial and the cruelly quick,
To find the words when symbols fail to tip the tongue.

Crazy hair,
Chucked up and wrapped up,
Haphazard but standing,
It holds little explosions at its feet,
Plumes that seem to best its atmosphere.