Learning

Must it be such dark blithe as such is mine,
That writhes in anguishing delight ‘til the sky burns,
         In defiant heat?

Allowed a look but not to see; no, divine
Perspective comes not in such a green’s yearning:
         Convention bars.

Can you not place on the rebellion like it was a gown,
A material you show endless partiality? Can courage not
         Be your gown?

I’d sleep never should you bend with the wind.
If it be my knowledge, then our iron is exposed on
         A foundation of cards.

Rectification, then, of a deceptive oasis in a dessert,
Wrought by the afflicting sneer of loneliness, your trees
         Being fleeting salvation.

If those trees still only sway, if that stream flows true,
To the constitution of time, if time has not browned the grass,
Then we will continue to look,
Until green no longer green, allows us to see: Veracity