In the fields or in the streets, Summer rain
Beautiful the movement, beautiful the sound
Urges and furies to live through and for
The mossy roots meditate on the center of the stone
Knowing the known
Flowery entertainments of intoxication, otherwise
Otherwise the truth to some lofty lie
Often I lie with truth's disguise
Finding my voice and coming of age through long suffering
Making forms out of the sandy void
Eerie echoing of the black and purple high and nether regions
I am guided by the whisper
I lay with the lie, it got away, ashamed of my nakedness
Of my void only light returns, birthing and nursing It
We and our Reality, our only friend true,
Through the feelings of pain and joy and sorrow
It is this magic toy, and map, territory, automaton
Wishing to flourish, though crafty and phantasmagoric
It is a timeless creation
It will return what we put into it
Life's kitchen, and follow choice and desire,
Until the big forgetfulness and even to the remembrances...
