Cannot be proven; go further, go

To experience, so to follow God:

That is the way says Father Zossima

Nor might I try or bully, foster, you

To new believing;

So much is not within the language given

An opulent Popper meditates there is no wording

Spoken; written;

But that waits on potent probabilities

Of skewed misprision; misconstruction unavoidable

So too, whose father-form got Derrida,

Nietzsche, unbuttons ‘play’, the constant merry creature

Of all uncertainty

And health; and he counterpoints pathology;

This dancer on high ropes who celebrates

Contingency

Admirer of the yardarm, standard, ever wavering

In winds. Kept true the mariner innate despite performs

A course deliberated regulated pensively

The salty roughs, its froths - all God’s

Flares minuscule deflections thousandfold

Bearing upon a line supplied by introspective eyes -

A mariner’s restitutions

For sure squire Thomas Fuller bothers us regards election

Salading ample tracts with rapturous scripture indication:

That a Bible should subsume subdued by mortal sorters,

God’s pilot log reduce to testate formulae

These are the thrashings to know the very nature of the fit

Whereas only passion’s inexactitudes might rightly flit

Here, there; perform enough to keep a welcome night-light lit