the end of the wish

To seek happiness one must seek what one does not know.
In this way the fool keeps forgetting what it knew, casting itself over and again into the same damn thing.

And the coward clings to what it knows.

And the hero fights what it does not know.

And the mystic prays to it,
the scholar studies it,
the lover and the hunter and the artist
chase it.
For they must
kiss its thighs,
offer it wine,
and sing its praises.

They worship the mystery.
Control in a man’s heart
meets the mystery in a woman’s smile,
and falls at her feet.

Confound me,
be more than I understand,
and I will treasure you.

So often love falls as it incarnates.
You will know it fully soon enough,
and lose love,
and blame her.
not the virgin,
or the whore,
but the priestess,
and the goddess,
and the Divine

Let us stop wishing.

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