Old Notion

Remember sitting on the stones
Warmed by a late summer evening
After a swim in the cold lake,

How the physical bliss made you
Metaphysical to your bones,
The way a drug or drink might do.

When the flesh is that contented,
Who isn’t a philosopher
Of fine, enlightened happiness?

Long views look best when now feels good.
Old ideas get their chance to glow
When the truth feels like something known,

Which would mean it was something old,
Something already understood.