If legion whispered in your ear plain truth,
As inescapable as breath or pulse,
Would scent or taste of Being's weight excite
Potential for a life that can exult
In distance from comfortable belief?--
In wilds where agile wits will stalk and kill?
Or would life choke a throat its reason heeds,
Then drown what sense its demons had revealed
In wails of white apologetic noise?--
White noise to raise interiors of faith
On reaching, vaulting spans of single voice,
The song of numbers who refuse to stray?
Lone thoughts and cares that wander from the crowd
Can never more assume contented form.