In Contempt of Worldliness
Granted it may be true as is said,
is as, ourselves, we make it, or granted if you want,
there’s no place else for us, but even so,
isn’t it right we feel contempt for those
too much at home here? How one comes
to despise all worldliness! World, world!
We cling like animal young to the flanks of the world
to show our belonging; but to be at ease here
in mastery, were to make too light of the world
as if it were less than it is: the unmasterable.
Strangely, the same thing makes too light
of us, as though it mattered this world, to us.
[This is for flowerville.]