I am done with great things
And big things, great institutions
And big success, and I am for those
Tiny invisible molecular moral
Forces that work from individual
To individual, creeping through
The crannies of the world like
So many rootlets, or like the
Capillary oozing of water,
Yet which, if you give them Time
Will rend the hardest monuments
Of our pride.
The flute of interior time is played
whether we hear it or not,
What we mean by "love"
is its sound coming in.
When love hits the farthest edge of
excess,
it reaches a wisdom.
And the fragrance of that knowledge!
It penetrates our thick bodies,
it goes through walls-
its network of notes has a structure
as if a million suns were arranged inside.
This tune has truth in it.
Where else have you heard a sound like
this?