I, I, I (On Parkes, on Heidegger and Taoism)

I, I, I – this troubled mind
Delights to know, delights to find,
And leaves behind the safer womb,
The unnamed peace of undreamed doom.

I, I, I create the lands
With burdened, I-inspired hands,
Create to save, create to kill,
While some deny, creating still.

I, I, I the “wise” declaim,
And masters master th’ unnamed name,
And deeper in transcendence set
Become the I more frozen yet.

I, I, I, the triune voice,
Cast worlds into the world of choice,
Where you and I in selfhood grope
For truth as thought and love as hope.

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