Nothing for the hole.
There never was, never for
any;
each ‘us’
--part empty, part full,
no need required--
must only be.
A spinning mind may whirl
ablaze
but restless must cease
lest ruin again
--and again: no doing need be done,
no final battle be won--
for every final inscape
scale of salvation
blinds another’s balance
over damnation,
each peace only peaces
(alone) for itself.
And a right rate will the
empty fill with
--spin speed to deed distance, pole to pole,
cubic fullness per meaning time-- flow,
though fillment refill
demands: each external drag,
another internal spin round
ruin, while
being is no balance, it
knows
--the fear of holes is the self killer, and
a few improved lives the greatest get--
there's nothing for the
hole,
the hole is beyond us, part
of us
Being is
We are
I am