Let us not speak of reflections

Nor of passageways through time, 

Nor of redemption, lest our 

Imprisonment spring before us

As an eastern sun

And shred the soothing darkness

Of the myriad cultural portraits

With which we decorate our walls.

How pleasantly our walls have come

To bolster history’s blindness,

The smiling fiery eyes of night

With which we grope unto our means

And ends.

Behind such walls are 

Deeds of men and portraits

We would worship; the 

Painted maps of what is known

Or thought to be known.

Let us not speak of reflections, 

For such remove our walls; 

Nor of passageways through time,

For such deny our dreams; 

Nor of redemption of 

the soul and time, 

For such requires eternity.