by Clay Howard | First Rritten 1970
I love my ignorance.
What a wonderful friend
It has been!
It has sheltered me
And honed my simplicity.
I am grateful for my ignorance.
It has allowed me to live
With the capacity to forgive
A conjured empathy
Aloof to frivolity.
I respect my ignorance.
It has portrayed the best in man
In every way it can,
Painted the finest fantasy
Over the canvas of mans’ savagery
How precious is my ignorance!
It cannot see the devious
And is oblivious.
It always tries to find
In the most evil mind.
I admire my ignorance.
It has held me above religions,
Their hatreds and divisions.
And though I cannot see
Into our mysterious destiny
There remains a strange peace in me.
I find balance in my ignorance.
Along the thin line
Of a hungry mind
There is knowledge without vanity
And each little discovery
Only opens the depths of a mystery.
There are wings in my ignorance.
It flies above the clouds of greed,
Sails beyond opulent need.
And, in the turmoil of prattle and theory
It has lifted my liberty
Above the flocks of bigotry.
My ignorance is a fire
Consuming the frivolous
While preserving the obvious.
It makes ashes of unfounded conclusions
And cautions me of illusions.
It purges my shame
In its’ gentle flame.
Ignorance fosters my hope.
Despite all human stupidity
It oppresses futility.
In the ravages of tragedy
And all sufferings and inhumanity
It sings the song of sanity.
Ignorance is my youth.
Despite the wisdom of experience
It plans with the vigor of diligence.
With all my reservations
And all my hesitations
It fills me with expectations.
I am grateful to my ignorance
As it protects my intelligence
From the sickness of arrogance,
Tempers the pen to the page,
Makes wine of my rage
And bread of my age.
Ignorance ignores my time.
It does not fret upon what was
Or wring its’ hands on what the future does.
Only the moment is the treasury
Of value to what we see
And what was or will ever be.
Ignorance has no fear.
It does not know
From where I come or where I go.
Ignorance has no anxiety
Whether death is a finality
Or a part of immortality.
Ignorance protects my motives.
My goodness is for goodness sake.
Though feeble, I am not a fake
Seeking the favor of judgmental lords
For divine rewards
Or my exclusiveness among the mortal hoards.
Ignorance preserves my sense of wonder.
It sets aside education
And scolds procrastination.
Every flower and creature is full of light.
Every day of sun or moonlit night
Is a marvel to my simple sense of sight.
I hope Ignorance will remain with me.
Should there be an immortal living,
Knowing everything would be unforgiving,
Painful to know the course is run,
Like a burnt-out sun,
Knowing its’ venture is, inescapably, done.