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Upon the Power of Certain Ideas
Now as the fulcrum holds, the forces come to bear, The world obeys that rigorous conception Which, having chosen out its sayer, Shall bend the very axes of perception.
As in a martial art the body takes the print Of some deep principle of torque and chih, And in the stress of tournament Exacts an excellence of purity,
Compelling both contender and antagonist To trace the ancient pattern of a dance Whose subtle leverage and twist Wrung from the flesh of apes the human stance.
Frederick Turner
From April Wind, © 1991. Reprinted by permission of University Press of Virginia.
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