You Know Not

We peer into our moon-lit minds,
Reminiscing memories; beech, birch, pine,
Knowing that someday we will find,
Knowing one day we'll resign.

Knowing the little knowledge we knew,
Will someday prove to be true,
Glorious Death will ensue,
Diffuse with sunlight; imbued; renewed.

Or perhaps us not perceiving,
Will keep us from shifting and seething,
Like a frightened sea-lion, pining and kneeling,
Or a fish out of water, writhing and wheezing.

If I elope the shade, I will not get burned,
If I lay with the maid, I will not be spurned.

Make your offering to the basin of God! you fool,
You know not how your thread will unspool,
You know not how m'Lord will rule.