An infinite wedge

Thoughts on Friday morning, 1837

    Inspiration,         the great incision in the soul bodie,    lingers like a wound in the side of the mind;         so much more when inspiration    converges near the limits of perceived reality.

    Will we ever come to see    That only courage grows tomorrow?

    Mind opens the gates of time    And flies the eagle's soar    Into the space beyond    limits of our agreed reality.

    Tenets of the past--    romantic, spiritual stewards of the weave--    spring up as markers,         (pray end up as understanding)    helping to divulge new identity    in a vast quanta of unique opportunity.

    There is the urge that will not be ceased:    To bring the forward back to the existing.    Reaching up to the heavens,    we bring insight to its test.

    Our science, our commerce, our effort,     merely to launch our timid rationality.

    Ah, the restraint of practical reason    coupled to the liberty    of a dignified mind:            an                                    infinite                                     wedge.