I'm sure the world resolves into a grove of truth

Although I know I have not light to see it

Nor being bright enough to delve and dree it

The world revolves around a gnomon - stock and root

Our silly dreams bewray it

Strife's antic scathes defray it

Here is a sort of music thought on adventitiously

All directions going – suffusing all reflections

At once a tune deep set in grounded elementals

Or else a broad revet in which imbued are Love Triune's essentials

Modals collide recite a fugue beyond fond comprehension

Moment's simplicity itself had we its provenance

Somewhere mislaid from day-to-day but rieved occasionally

A little; at a time when ganz allein we're brought to pray

And dandled on all hope we touch love's tonic mystery

A second fleeting, suddenly unbidden, meeting All

-in-All; too much, too much, to look on overlong

And then reverting finds us back among a common song

Tight held a plighted memory, oracular, alive

Of what shall be, to come about it shall, inevitably

The God of Abraham, of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, He

God of the living proselytises this is so

It is the only temporal fact we ever truly know