1993

Fair-haired Goldmund, where have your wayward paths led?
Thin-lipped Narcissus, what truths have your deliberations fed?

                         2004

Having long ago dismissed your dyads
	Father of intellect,
	Mother of creation.
I keep busy distilling fresher extremes
	Cheetah is awake,
	Porcupine is dreaming.
What is this proclivity to conceive in poles
	Wolf and lamb
	Donkey, elephant
	Fidel and infidel
That molds the world we make in thought?

It must be (would you agree?)
Not the poles we seek, but the perfection
The poles imply: The last, best thought.
The end to speculation.

                         2015

Note to self: Have you found
The last best thought?

                         2026

How about now?

                         2037

now?

                         2048

I am tired.  Now.
Think I will go to sleep.

//Hermann Hesse//