“Man: an objective subject.
Woman: a subjective object.
which ought to be a straight path to its goals,
instead must vex
its way among a million shifting roles.
No matter: man’s resolution
is only braced by such illogic.
Man has a mightier magic:
which by defining each
thing it encounters, locks
it in his own conceptual box,
from which it takes on shape.
Nothing exists until man names it first,
making it a part
of what is ours, for knowing is a sort
of acquisition, in which we spend
our force to bend
provocative conundrums to our mind,
then leaving them, once quelled, to find
still newer matter challenging our art.
If the rainbow’s architecture, or the burst
of unimagined stars, or the beamed support
of time and space itself cannot escape
his language-spangled cunning,
then by what running
may she thwart
his universal power of attribution?
The purpose of a problem is solution.”
“Man: a restricted notion.
Woman: an endless ocean,
which needs no path to oneness, lying above,
below, along, around, within
the source and aim of its desire,
does not require
anatomy to comprehend the dancer,
nor thinks it any gain
the heart of mystery
against an answer.
to force reality
into the facts,
but truth is an embroidery
of all that is, or has been, or could be:
nothing exists that is not woven in.
To name is to discover, not define,
a sort of analyzing not supported
by treasure-heaps of diction meaning ‘mine.’
What is, cannot be thwarted.
Since foolish man may never recognize
(for wisdom is a kind of recognition)
the world created for his eyes
each time he opens them, nor learn to know
himself, not merely
who understand how dearly
one must pay to let things grow,
rejoinder, being assured
though never the first, always the final, word.”