Death! Emptiness! Nothing!

“I went to the top of every spire.
Mountain. Bank. Ivory tower!
And there was nothing there
And it still feels unfair
This thing: I remain empty, unseen—
Tricked! So I come clean: do not try
But love and travel. As at the top
We still unravel.” And what a privilege

It was for him to say so! As we
Down here have no legs
To climb, nor fingers to count,
Nor eyes to read; while he
Enlightened
And published still finds the will
To talk! Why is that, Sir?
Why in the world

Would you? As surely
You must know
That’s how we “unravel”? But
You absolutely must
“Understand”, “up there”
With all that “knowledge”; or
Were you not going up, but only
Down

Getting scared? “Stop! It’s only Death! Emptiness! Nothing!
And even that is truly ineffable!”
Ha! Sir—we in the dark?—
Already know about the foreseeable.