(to a Nobel Laureate)
His extremities had been weighted
As by centuries of continuous movement
And may now be found lacking in tone and coordination;
Although time, with its fine discernment
Of the needs of this species
Has moved him inexorably towards immobility,
It is still possible for him to peer
Through layers of sunlight,
Somewhat closer to the core of its brightness
Than most of us have had the privilege,
And he is now able to skip quite lightly
Along the byways of truth,
Thus avoiding a multiplicity of obstacles.
In his heart he is undoubtedly a dancer
In the tradition of Nijinsky playing the fawn
Or the bull dancers of ancient Minos,
and like quicksilver flowing through cracks,
Unearthing subtle roads where none had previously been discernible,
Like a micro-surgical blade probing between tissues,
He is quick to set aside what is unimportant
As he dances to the minicenter of our existence.