Disgraced swine of pure reason,
hast thou fallen downward into the slippery pit of doubt?
O dearest friend, let me recount for thee then
the tale of two travelers seeking shelter in the night.
Thousand doors knocked, thousand doors locked and lightning bolted
Yet one , though meager one hut had received, lock-less and poor.
A feast fit for paupers and for kings presented therein,
bowl of endless wine ignored, small miracles unnoticed not long.
The travelers take truest form with blinding conviction
from mountaintop they cast the ocean, and the fair valley blooms into a swamp.
The generous couple, broken down by time, is granted a single wish,
and like that--
the wrath of one hand is calmed by the kindness of the other.
Where a simple shack of matted grass and sticks once stood
rooted pale marble column sprouts into gilded temple.
This I remember clear when you seem to have forgot what you hold dear.
The joints of two trees together entwined their stiffened fingers
given grace beyond death, a reward for simple hospitality.
Last words breathed between souls transfigured
"goodbye my. . ."
Indeed the Gods wrath is only equaled by their kindness.
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