Simplicity is the deception of
awe and wonderment.
For the soul of man is not at all
the decent thoughts nor wishes of
a longed-for dream.

Its worth cannot be bought for
that one moment's rest.
Because, by being absolute, it is
at best
a promise:
that straw and mortar
will remain just that,
though life and breath
do rise
from 'neath their boweled strains.

But do not grieve for
finite minds.
Bemoan instead that voice
which sounds of "grace".
And where Eternity's voice and thoughts should stand,
stands now the Spectre's space.
I know, he offers sweet the forms of geometric shapes
and Time that is but "now" and "then"
and "stop" and "go"
"arise"
"descend".

Oh, do not hear his beckoning calls
nor wined and honeyed words I pray.
Hear instead your open eyes
and rise above what is today :

While in the lights of unlit nights
he blooms and blossoms, bathes and basks,
he baits us on with open hooks
to fall prey to his waiting traps.
With mock "sincere"
he asks the question
why?
and we, like fools,
reply.