When the linear becomes circular,
poles kiss, spark and blend;
you lean so heavily to the left it becomes right;
journey eastward, arrive in the west;
the world turns upside down.
Discovering the one bad apple is you
tainting everything you touch,
you begin assiduously to unhand –
nothing doing – at the same time
with the perfection that existed
before the original, disconcerting scratch;
attempt worldly non-participation
while in the thick of it, attending to
the sacred duty of subjugation, abdication
vital to and inclusive of
all the other duties earnestly
entrusted to your care.
O child of God, to serve others might simply be
searching your own pockets for the missing key.