Once you give into the ride it continues, with exacting language
and convincing thoughts, for paragraphs or pages, before
you pause in disbelief
*
Once the snowball is dropped in the desert, maybe not even on a hill,
with scant verbiage, it still keeps rolling
At some point it rolls right into a song
At another point it gets so big it takes on “goodness” and “power
over evil” and almost everything not-yet
*
I finish the book
I believe and don’t know what to believe
The simple declarative is best but even that is of course
fraught with snares
*
It’s back on the shelf and time passes. A pantheon isn’t a pantheon
except in feeling. I pick it up and begin again
