With pointed inquiry
dig about the roots of thought,
let in Life's irradiance.
Here's no fallow ground;
growth is not by seasons.
So, turn the soil, let in the light!
The rake of platitudes
has teeth too short
to penetrate the crust
and warm, illumine, wake
the earthbound thought.
It takes the new-old Truth—
original as dawn—
to probe the shadowed deeps
and show us timeless day.
