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The last three lines!

     indeed a poem of great enchantment,

Law and virtuous wisdom, initimate with nature,

beautifully thought provoking and compelling.

     desire to connect with the lovely

lingering illusion of creation even--  yea

through solitude, our greatest hope.

     to know the meaning of what we perceive

to be a kind of meticulous madness, and

the manipulative maelstrom beckons always and

     we are free to breathe soon as we

recognize and join the dispassionate

friend, the frenzy and absolute truth.

The alliteration (consonance) snagged my ear, flooded meaning across the senses, and found order in love. 8 million people to be evicted for the New Year. There is about to be a comedy of chaos all about us. Some call it the Cares Act II, some pandemic relief, but there is nothing for renters and leasers in the Republican version. Looking ahead, anticipating, preparing to solve is a lost skill. Or a strategy. Make the enemy Democrats look incompetent. To be watched.

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~S~
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This poem's center of gravity is the phrase, fairly close to the conclusion, Unquestioning Oneness.  This is the first aspect I want to establish in my response, and it speaks for itself.

    Patriciajj is, I think, a true descendent, poetically, of Uncle Walt---as she proclaims the fact of union in a time of disunion, of multiplication of fellowship in a time of division of society into groups, some privileged and some not.  She looks at the sense of isolation which, I think, some folks---like the rightsers---enjoy because then they can wring their hands and say, "Oh, me . . ."  When I am part of a group---a love relationship, the Church, a corporate staff, or errand-runners on an interstate highway---I become part of the unquestioning Oneness that makes my rights secondary, and the needs of the others in that group paramount.  Saint Paul said, to the Philippian Christians if I recall correcty, that they should esteem others better than themselves.  That excludes the behavior of the rightsers, because, if I follow Paul's lead, the other's, or others',  rights are more important than mine.  This is part of the function of unquestioning Oneness.

  She says solitude is the great illusion, as the poem begins, and she is right.  Even Karl Marx, that msinterpreter whose followers have brought such misery in the world, said that no human being is an individual.  We are all part of other human beings.  I could not conceive and give birth to myself.  I needed two parents---and yes, they may have been saps; a couple of high school kids, in my case---but I needed them to give me life.  Even---to cite an extreme example---Frankenstein's monster understood that it had been brought into this world by another human being, and it wanted to be a part of human society, or some kind of society, and not be alone.  Mary Shelley very adroitly put this recognition of unquestioning oneness in the mind and mouth of a character excluded by its appearance from that oneness.  And, at the end of the novel, the Monster chooses to be alone only to die---to flee into distance and darkness in order to build the crematory pyre on which it will fling itself to bring an end to Victor Frankenstein's horribly selfish experiment.  The monster is Mary Shelley's great, and greatest, condemnation of the illusion of solitude.  And, although Patriciajj is a descendent of Uncle Walt here in the States, she is also a poetic descendent of Mary Shelley in her understanding of these very subtle details that, for at least the last four years, society has disdained, dismissed, and disrupted.

    This poem is not only an indictment of that social trend, it is also a promise of hope and relief, which may be very apparent during the next four years.  This poem is far more about commending than condemning; it is far more about reconciliation than miscombobulation; it is about fellowship, not oneupmanship, the Art of making relationship rather than "The art of the deal."  The art of the deal, or, shall we say, of dealing is "how much can I get out of you at the least possible cost to myself."  And having a deal-speculator in this country's chief magistracy has made this attitude rife through the fabric of society.  The art of feeling, which is what this great poem promotes, says "how much can I do for you, and I do not care what it costs to myself."  This is the sacrificial Love that Jesus came to express; this is the social meaning of the Cross.  This is the defeat of the illusion of solitude, and the triumph of the unquestioning, and unquestioned, Oneness, of which this poem so eloquently, so poetically, and so poignantly tells us.  Patriciajj has an innate, instinctive, and intuitive knowledge of those things that affect the Soul and operate the Cosmos, and she has proven that, again, as she ALWAYS does, in this triumphant new addition to her towering achievement at postpoems.