Philosopher's Song

My own divisions will never rest
Their contortions within my soul,
For ceaseless striving is the best
That can approximate a whole.
Yet I am not split in twain
For I am fragments through and through.
So I divide again and again
Systematic chaos is the clue.
Matter and intellect and will
Compose me, among other things.
Mere thought alone won't fit the bill;
We need a philosophy that sings.
Therefore leave the armchair for the stage,
Thought demands action for our age.