if you live deep in trees
for any time alone
  certain things
fall like leaves
covering the undeniable
  rock, dirt
returning not to true
forms, but new
on our small sphere
churning nevertheless
without regard
toward you or i
nor me, here
to stare up instead
at the equally
  distant stars

i wish i could see
religious things
certain as science

were i to choose
what fills the void
  i would choose
something
  other than
curiosity - a feeling
perhaps like love

for nothing is less alone
than love in its longing
and who better to know
than the Absolute
  unequivocal
answer

there is a narrowing
vision, imagined by
scoped heads as focus
  locking in tracks
with little hope
any wider path
could ever be

to always be correct
  while wrong
and the shuffling lie
  leads on
with nowhere out
  without
giving
into the shameless
  I
did not understand