I am Lazarus, come from the dead

Of obedience, faith, adhesiveness;
As I stand aloof and look there is to me something pro-
foundly affecting in large masses of men fol-
lowing the lead of those who do not believe
in men.

"Thought", Leaves of Grass - Walt Whitman

Hast never come to thee an hour,
A sudden gleam divine, precipitating, bursting all these bub-
bles, fashions, wealth?
These eager business aims - books, politics, art, amours,
To utter nothingness.

"Hast Never Come To Thee An Hour", Leaves of Grass - Walt Whitman

I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all
oppression and shame;
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with
themselves, remorseful after deeds done;
I see, in low life, the mother misused by her children, dying,
neglected, gaunt, desperate;
I see the wife misused by her husband--I see the treacherous seducer
of young women;
I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited love, attempted to be
hid--I see these sights on the earth;
I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny--I see martyrs and
prisoners;
I observe a famine at sea--I observe the sailors casting lots who
shall be kill'd, to preserve the lives of the rest;
I observe the slights and degradations cast by arrogant persons upon
laborers, the poor, and upon negroes, and the like;
All these--All the meanness and agony without end, I sitting, look
out upon,
See, hear, and am silent.

"I Sit and Look Out", Leaves of Grass - Walt Whitman

Perhaps,
faltering with the control I've over my own -
ceding unto metamorphosis,
unto what is, perchance,
tantamount to sand sifting through unlearned hands,
each crystal a manifestation
of Chaos -
of that knowledge of endless Eternity
shifting over an inconceivable number of unchosen paths -
what will have changed?

And,
in leaving Faith with the Universe
will I salvage my sanity?

I was going to post the poem the title of this post alludes to but I chose not to. Perhaps another time for such a jewel of poetry.

Your friend,
Alex