*image by Ben Harubin

 

The valuable is not disturbed by a closer look;
only the ordinary fears scrutiny.

To Know and then not Do produces but a new form of imagination
(and quite ordinary fools dream of themselves as wise men of action).

If worry can make the ordinary lose weight,
I tremble to ponder the consequences of
happiness should it ever get loose.

The Few do not evolve to some set pattern:
They are not only the road, but the destination as well.

Just as the alcoholic can never be truly cured, the established circuits
can't be rehabilitated. The drunk must avoid the drink, and the Few
must eschew the predictable.

There is an unknown Song Of Life.
It has a rhythm, a melody, and words.
Each of the three circuits plays its part
in the symbiotic symphony,
and the Few bathe in its glory.