Too often I'm a mere philosopher --
I'd rather be a teacher, telling deeds
And actions, showing fates and rules, confer
With deity in ways you can infer
The truth of things off of these phonic beads.
But who will let the poet sing the light
To them? Delight is found in simple things --
Complexity brings very few delight --
And simplifying but brings on the night,
Reducing everything to cosmic strings.
But what of love? Combined of chemistry,
Neurology, and culture -- these the hems
That make the dress of such complexity
As love and other forms of great beauty
That glitter, shine as this small planet's gem.
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