Recycle

I'm not sure where all these keys to codes lay
Through lexicons throughout the day, book
Of nature, nature's book, halls and winding
Galleries took, sleepless nights wakeful days
Underscore knowledge wisdom stays, I'm not
Sure where all this understanding goes, in one
Ear, out the other it flows, I think it's all encased
Together far apart, meant to train one last person
From any sort stock, it's all the same, alchemical
changes sustain, I can change lead to gold but for
The resevoir a glint piece fell from the cart off of the
Load, and tumbled, tumbled, the miner's eye glinted
as it tumbled, tumbled, away, below the hideaway track
and there it sat, back to the earth, it escaped, pure,
Pureification, until the last man tempers it agaisnt hardened
rocky sand and says, good, I first man, did this first, good.

Christopher Baird 2012 ©