Writings: Utopia

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Another oldie-but-goody...



Of those who champion the power
Of profane love, I ask—
Where stand the monuments
To passion's seizures?

To those who exhort faith
In the sophistries,
The promises, the pledges
And coercion of Politics,

I say—Once I can vote
For Wisdom as against Reason,
And for Justice as against Law,
I will have found my faction.

With those who speak of Progress
I would make this compromise—
To live with a lithe dark woman
In a dome of hand-packed mud:

A garden, a few useful animals,
A bronze chronology of children
Laughing through the mists
Of a waist-high meadow.

Beyond, an amphitheatrical forest,
Enclosed again by a range of hills
Mounting with pines to Himalayan majesty—
At my back, an unsailed ocean.

Yet, within walking distance
A great medical center, side by side
With the ultimate library,
At the end of a path known only to me.

Complete—I would worship Time.
Content—I would keep a place
Always set at my table
For the anticipated savior: Death.
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