You ask what I am at last but

understand the answer is not



subject to form or rather it is in

the form of myself,



cellulose compounds

endlessly recomposing.



I am standing by dint

of parts in tension,



for living is motion,

ends are beginnings



and hydrogen’s cleaving

begets all shining.



I am molten, ongoing,

shot from the heart



of all making

always giving up



to the gladdening

river that is myself.