60.) As The Air Is In The Sky, But Not Above It

As the air is in the sky, but not above it

As the water is in the sea, and is above it

It was in me, that which I never named

He was in me, who I would never name

Nor ever crease the lines he gave me

With my own

Should I name this one I know, I know him

Not – if I should think I had him sussed, I lied

If any say they know him, they decry him so

They take his teaching as though they knew

What he meant

Knowledge was what they wanted, craved it

If they could have enough of it, they thought

Then they had ‘him’

But that was not knowledge that was ‘it’

Light moves – and missing ‘it’ they will not know

In the stream the light glitters against their eyes

It mists them: they see not for they are looking

Backwards – always looking backwards towards

The legend, times of history, and former knowing

Taking that, as their word for the present

Why does a singer first want to learn the song?

Or a signet swan, want to try the lake?

And then, when learned, despise it for another

Which could not be learned, that was greater

And was their birthright?

Why did I never feel I belonged among them?

Why did I race to leave their gilded halls?

Why, at the end, did even the thought of them

Make me sick enough – to run far from them

Live apart, where life walks in me, through walls?

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