Beyond Philosophy

I cannot yet see the end of your sly game,
A cat or mouse affair
To lure the unaware
Into some snare of blame and shame.
I am too lately pagan as you know
And given to the erotic
And hedonist hypnotic
Places in the soul'searching rich flow.
Spirit and sex, so for centuries shriven
By Pentecostal patriarchs obscenely driven
To root out the root of procreation
By calling it degeneration.
Ludicrous at best but then why cling
To such an inhuman sensualist thing?
Yet there you stand or sit or lie
And keep your hidden urgings nigh
As if enemies to your pride
When yet desire naked lover beside.
Why so silent, why masked?
You are not Atlas with a world tasked
Against the pleasures you might find
Within the confines of your mind
And release them, word and deed,
And discover where they may lead.