To what end then will you come, little thought
Teasing the mind with breath-flickers of light
Are you but a chasing of wind-whispered naught
Vexing bridge-builders and dreamers alike?
Sometimes you come to me; beggar within
Stripping my being of its wearied moil
You press; mighty torrent beneath silent skin
Weighing the meaning of life’s little spoil
Pleasure and torment succinctly align
Where is the fount from which you abound?
Gentle, yet ruthless, in formless design
Affirming, condemning without merest sound
To what end then will you come, little thought?
Circle of wanting, of wonder and will
Wielding your power in unscripted jot
As hands and feet your bidding fulfill
Understanding increases your void
Wisdom vexes what cannot be grasped
As I consider your passion employed
Only to fall like dust fragments at last
Apart from the One who instills mankind’s soul
Apart from a Knowing that cannot be taught
I could not bear the mind of this fool
Or the ineptness of my little thought
© Janet Martin
I'm reading in Ecclesiastes right now. This verse sums it up; all of life's vanity and chasing of the wind... for without him, (God) who can eat or find enjoyment? Eccles. 2:25 If what we do is simply an extension of thought seeking to please self we will never be satisfied.