You enter the mountain when it opens
Koppen hills...Aladdin's cave...Koh-i-Noor-
time comes you return empty handed:
gravity can't be held in the hand.
But you can 
imagine a huge sack of experience,
feel the weight heavy on your back;
drag a miser's triple-locked chest
full of inexpressible treasure.

    Myself I made progress
when I shut myself up
in a room for a solid decade,
my quest for an ideal
pursued with a gleaming guitar.
I held my adversary
at arms length 
as far as he went
he homed in on my weak points and I
made light of it over and over.

    They all have to know the same things
to understand what they're not talking about.
They'll unfold creased fingers to show you,
proving it, you just have to nod.
Paintings suggest, words try harder, 
music used to evoke. All of us
and our adversaries have to know
inexpressible treasure.