11. the perverse spirits.

****
for they do indeed helplessly hate me
who love me the most
but who fail to evoke my response.
****
& they do play this game
of pretending to disbelieve
& rebel & try to nullify
aspects of my being
who have the most acutely sensed
the certain potent divine
reality to my person;
i see through their foolish tricks
i have no desire
to make any claim
i cannot ever need
to prove my self
to others at all,
beyond, of course, serenely
stating my natural truths
regardless of how such unwanted foes
might choose to construe my integrity.
****
& they do pretend to ridicule me
who withal deeply admire me
the most indeed,
& all that jealous detractors
might decry the most passionately
is precisely what they aspire
to the most ardently, indeed;
no, i refuse to share,
i owe no humans any explanation
for gifts god has liberally bestowed upon me,
i don't teach others how to
become or be as i am,
i cherish my individuality,
quite fetish my exclusivity,
& god's pleasure determines my being
which none might possibly ever replicate,
i frown at admirers pitiably imitating me
in grotesque, futile, pathetic attempts
to experience how i must be,
my being is real, elusive, inaccessible,
save as i might permit
lending life experience of myself,
yes, i exist,
in my reasons,
& these no human
is ever to know or understand,
not really, nor quite, never totally,
not if i can help it
& i certainly can
& ought to know
& do too well.
****
the recluse the
enigma the mystery
shall yet continue
to spawn lunatics
& tantalize all;
god purposes it
i shall it.
****
& nobody can
do anything about
anything to me.
****
there is only one way
to access & evoke me
it is faith, love, sincerity
& it is my decision
that remains supremely final still;
all else are sheer insanities
ab initio guaranteed to fail
& invite terrible legal punishments
from the awesome mystical law
that surrounds my embracing aura
& envelops all i purpose.
****