Sunvivid atomlight, whirled around in blue.
Let a body of wisdom accumulate.
And grow, nurtured in each experience;
one unique basketful per unique hand.
Mementos of years, bones after the feast-
collected knowledge to lock in dusty drawers.
But wisdom, as love, will not know itself caught
so think not to break free, all being well.
Sometime, for the sake of good hungering
shall we pad lightly, basket in hand,
where tide on tide bring discoveries new.
We amuse ourselves; throw them back, or no?
Laying our heads after all, we picnic
too old to worry, too slow to miss out.