At what point in a life is a Self at the Height of its Power;
paused as it is in contemplation, and self-knowledge is the above;
look back and see the graph of rises, unless your ridge is a plateau;
dust is as today a little pile, one ant pretending to be a whole hill;
mountains of metaphors can convince anything of anyone, do go on;
nap time, when all the conviction of the morning fades to dream elation;
and the mind can make whatever it wants into ever unrest;
stroll through the infinite to find nothing, guaranteed;
assertions dissolve into humid thoughts;
dryness only follows the sun to a riverbed;
whereas wishes make it snow;
question the direction;
eat and sleep.
Roman Ryan 