We are not all Rilke’s panther,
Mighty wills stupefied.
If we were, the stupefaction
Well, it would stave off a war,
A battle of all against all.
And that stupefaction
Is a benefit to all, not a fault or flaw.
Most of us dance about the center
Because we have nothing else to do.
We will the nothingness of empty
And meaningless repetition.
We will to be stupefied
To be sheltered from our own weaknesses
And the meaninglessness,
The nothing of another sort
That might take advantage of us,
Or erase us.
We pace in circles so that those prone to dominate
Those great wills, will do so too.
Because we want to be.
We want to be more than we want greatness.
