to think . . . .
th’ dead are through
is to dance
for to dance is to praise life
yet to sing to sing is to dance with th’ dead
to know th’ dead have only just begun th’ dance with th’ divine is to truly sing
th’ divine is th’ hidden perfection
to dance is to be filled with life
to sing is to be overflowin’ with wisdom
th’ wisdom comes from th’ hidden perfection
th’ perfection which grants th’ dead th’ passage unto life
in death th’ psoul can accomplish purity
in life th’ bodhi can achieve harmony
when life meets death th’ two dance
when death meets life as one we sing
when th’ choirs fill th’ halls of ecclesiastes with royal blue harmonies
th’ hearts oph th’ miscreants are softened
when th’ silence beckns a child to sing to th’ trees
th’ miscreants aren’t ever given a chance to exist!
skools of fish contemplate formulas for freedom
dolphins abandon logic in praise of true knowing
true knowing is th’ trembling
th’ chills which rattle to th’ core
th’ core knows how to take a breath
th’ skools of fish are food for th’ dolphins
who do not mix with th’ sharks
even though th’ fish seem to sado masicistically take births just to feed these two creatures!
th’ dolphin is ys. . .