June 28, 2007
Douglas A. Bauman
Although I tarry haste, I shall come hither,
Do not parry chase, lest ye go thither.
If thou pour a life in one direction,
Then thou lose a chance at fresh convection.
If thou hear my words, spend little labor,
Words of praise speak not, but gentle favor.
Bare the thoughts your eyes can never hide,
Hear your soul and ride the rushing tide.
For you have never, been so clever,
enough to lead yourself forever far from me.