o, for expansive accuracy
a veritable diorama of penetrating ken--
but what do we have, but transparency
of truth and time, minor joy
temporary as sin?--

so be it then and closer, friend--
what mirrors the coming silence
must be quietly said--

what to fear but the nothingness
which rises to belittle self--
what to hate but that satisfaction
false as the greater world dispelled--

birdsong is a fire shearing diamond--
all is instrument and shell.