I struggle to abandon apollonian mind to faith:
To leave aside the compass given me to read, arrange
And bend the spinning chaos to the rhythm of my breath.
Is that of reason. Yet relieved to find the passing strange
Truth which flouts my measured doubt: I can scarce allow
Myself the grace that we are twin and have so been forever.
Which grounds all other house-of-cards truths i pretend to know.
And what of that? The world spins on indifferent to whether
My conjectures stand to reason. We know each other.
This poem is an anonymous submission received for IPM 2017