From this vantage
We have quelled our devils,
Torn our veils,
And dozed off in the effulgence of Being.
For a time our hopes were recycled,
Our superstitions dashed,
Our reach for life extended into
Flashes of distilled desperation
For a gentle upsurge that drifts and transforms,
That subsides and appears again
Ever-more slight, ever-more humble,
Dallying effortlessly with rambling thoughts along the embankment.
Art: “Argenteuil Seen from the Small Arm of the Seine”