For a Critic
Do I offend you with my lack of pretension?
Are you so sure because of all the books you have read?
The lack of literacy plays to my advantage
Because you cannot trace the derivation of my thread
Where there is no root to find
A plant cannot be condemned
Only the flower can be judged
For the root is not a stem
In the heart of emotion where the flame burns
Only the air we breathe can keep it alive
Yet the soil where it was planted must remain
For what we breathe can only bring life to life
In the origination of all thought
And it’s struggle to raise its head above perception
What is known to one man without reference
Is his and his alone to defend its conception
In the pilgrimage from ignorance to knowledge
The rejection of approval and validation is only the beginning
To live as do the poor in anonymity and hunger
Is to make pure all revelation; untouched by material underpinning
There is no question to answer except when will God return?
And in the mind of a seeker he can only acknowledge what he does not know
There is no pot which nurtures a final proclamation of certainty
For what needs water and air is limited in its ability to grow
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