"Each creative act is the universe incarnating itself as one, and there is nothing above it by way of final condition." (Alfred North Whitehead)
Some reflections on Whitehead's remarkable insights into the nature of "creative advance", and its application to the poem.
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See,
"each creative act" is some--and let's say strictly unneutral-- matter of fact,
which is never in the same place twice,
god-oriented at its best (yes, of course) with enjoyment galore
reserved for those with an eye for concrescent moons,
whose function, at the base of their growing, is to feed on some matter of love,
at least thrice-halved below,
the urge towards fullness, i.e., moon's and ours, remaining the same, at the very least,
and amounting to love,
the poet then, i.e., taking hold and seizing it (but never in the same place twice),
unbounded by the cradling thumbs,
the poem more gladly appetitive than speculative, in any event
(a nexus of ants and their endearing fora)
a sanctity of self rather than dirty remarriage,
to be enjoyed more than done
