roundly, in parables

for the kingdom of Heaven is like a soup
that hat a savour in it as of something burned,
such that the chefs declare one and all "it has burned,"
but the master of the house tasting it, declares
it has not burned, and lo it is served
to the praise of all the guests.

Or again, it is like a bird, high in the air
who maketh only so much way forward
as the wind push it back. Making no effort
it is hung suspended, drawn backwards
toward its origin. Yet with mighty efforts
of its wings, it keeps its place.

Or again it is like a soot, where chimneys
used to be. The chimneys are no more, still
the people look upon the soot, remarking
one to the other.

Or again it is like none of these things.
It never was. Strain not your understanding,
lest you be cast into the soup and be burned,
and tasted, and be declared burnt, and again
tasted and found to have been unburnt. The guests

will consume you with praise.