Flowers and mysteries plucked in spring
Daughters and fairies flow and sing
Light pours like wine
Gra** rises to catch your step
It's ok to whisper on a day as such
It's respectful and humble
Words are ripped from my mind
Torn and reformed in thought and dream
They cradle my fallen head
And caress my sullen spirit
I am floating now
Above a village of worm and quiet motion
There are no bells here
No church or temple
No parishioners or faithful
Light is as it is and gathers no followers
Time is not present only progress
A progress of sun, moon and wind
This is a universe
Of scent and touch
Of song and movement
Solitude arises from this moment
Plants war in gas and root
A quiet war
Far from the sea
Far from our world
Far from our lunacy
Is no one but fools saints and madmen allowed these views?
None but fools saints and madmen need know
I will sleep tonight and
Think of these things
Morning will come and the still life
Will be complete