I am dead because I lack desire,
I lack desire because I think I possess.
I think I possess because I do not try to give.
In trying to give, you see that you have nothing;
Seeing that you have nothing, you try to give of yourself;
Trying to give of yourself, you see that you are nothing:
Seeing that you are nothing, you desire to become;
In desiring to become, you begin to live.
Untitled poem, from a letter to his wife (1944)
Appears in postface to Mount Analogue: A Novel of Symbolically Authentic Non-Euclidean Adventures in Mountain Climbing