The Point Is Just that I Don't See the Point
Music: Fugue in B Minor for Organ.
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|The point is just that I don't see the point:
However much one wants to be turned on,
Ecstasy can put things out of joint;
Yearning is for what will soon be gone.
Each can choose content or discontent;
All are happy, if they would be so.
Revelation isn't Heaven sent;
Out of what you are comes what you know.
Forget, then, the pursuit of the sublime.
There is no thing that's needed -- all is here.
Happiness will settle in, in time,
Enduring, though the weather may turn drear.
One must plod to plow, and plow to plant.
X marks the heart, where lies all one could want.