The King Breaks through a Fence

​The king breaks through a fence
To create his own path.
He breaks down Newton’s wall
And scribbles a new math.

The ruins are restored by
A man who knows ruins, (he was born
That way) and the trick to pick
A rose is to avoid the thorn.

Sometimes everything crashes
Until the smoke billows out
To the road, until the throat
Is choked and cannot shout,

But the white-faced man
Will climb out of the crevasse,
Everyone who sought beauty
On the crashed mountain pass,

Who wanted more than
What they knew they wanted, who
Died in their sleep and frustration,
“Gather my lovers to

Me, who were, in the end,
Faithful.” Once, they had leaped
And died, now they stride
Where until now we have creeped,

And even if, the second time,
We weren’t high enough, the third
Time, the people of the aleph,
The limbs that had been injured,

The sapling that was pulled out
Of the ground will be replanted,
The homes will spread upon the hills,
Permission will be granted

To swear in the living name
Of the just and the fair, and
Those who had been as far 
As Stanford, in quicksand,

Will build a stone home. Even
They will be guides and singers
States the master beyond math
Whose every speech lingers.