Greer's Ferry

Do we not understand,

Are we so blissfully insane

That we do not know the spirit wishes a body

As the body a spirit?

 

We live a precarious life

In vicarious exchange of matter and spirit

As we stand at the ATM

And make entries in our diaries, postage due.

 

And why settle for less?

The greatest heights of triumph

Rise from mortal fiber,

That spun on the web

And dripped on the parched tongue like honey

From love's cup

Which is continuously overflowing.