Adventure must live on! It must—it must!
I would not take a heaven without that.
If in peace only does my heaven trust,
I’d rather wait on hell’s own welcome mat.
For here, at least, I can make peace from naught,
and tell of joy to those who know but pain.
I can, here, use my mind to carve good thought—
but I can’t make good on a perfect plane.
But if there’s heaven that leaves room for it,
that leaves some space for stratagem to thrive,
I’ll take the one fit not with thrones to sit,
but with boots ready—soon as I arrive.
Adventure is my heaven. May the God
who gives me work to do make me so shod.
~~~
Two of my closest confidants are gone,
escaped from where they usually are hid,
evicted from their place, without, withdrawn,
from what I didn’t, not from what I did.
If I had done some cruel thing to them,
I would now beg their pardon, bend my knee,
and give them all that would, their ire, stem,
but that penance is also gone from me.
For I offended not in deed, but lack.
In what I did not do, have they found lease
to leave. They left me not from my attack,
but from my love’s divertment and decrease.
I foolishly allowed a hole to grow
in my sock’s toe, and there my two toes go.