The Deal

What is every moment
but a baptism by storm?
Fracturing the form
at least a little,
capturing what’s warm
and blasting it with cold –

bare and bold and terrible:
mining for the gold
of Soul, and finding it,
if only to appear
in unremembered dreams.
What is every moment

but a vast indifferent scheme
that makes you feel? –
thereby to co-create,
however inadvertently,
the real? That seems
to be the deal.

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