TO  OBJECTIVISTS
AND  LIBERTARIANS

My intuition flies beyond the scope
Of Reason . . . that spiked wall meant to enclose
All daedal wings. But wings of Observation mock
All efforts to enclose, encase, or limit
All that's supernatural.

Your thought weighs you down . . . confines in rusty iron . . .
In syllogisms welded round your hands.
You are idle, idle, have taken life with limits!
Check the barred doors, barred windows of your cell.

For thought allied to eye and heart
Can lift you like a ladder over cages,
To scale the walls of prisons, soar above horizons,
Delight the clapping hands of ages.

You can try to fly into the Sun,
And, unlike that wax-boy Icarus --
In heat not melt nor fall.

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Copyright 1977;  revised 2000, 2001.

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Last modified:  12:00 PM EST 10/28/2001