He picks his favorite face
In scowling concentration,
Brooding in infinite space
Over hands interlaced.
Good rules or bad rules.
Neither overpowers.
Equipoised, creation cools.
Glory self-devours.
Hands fly away from clasping,
Scattering the stars.
Giving is filled up with asking
And there are wars.
He studies his outspread fingers
Splayed all over space,
Leaves the smile that lingers
And removes the face.