Poetry loves the circle

and Science scales the diagonal

And Reason itself

Finds its grooves in the rhythms of the mind

Without a little faith (just a pinch)

In an unending pantheism

From which source will a thirsty thinker

Find his satiety?

Without a touch of pretense

How will he keep safe

his well-earned

and mannered soulfulness?

His keep-sake is an amulet

that he wears around his neck

It seems to strangle him

As it ticks away