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