how ignorant of you
to suggest that only
seven wonders
exist in this world;
for you yourself are a wonder.
you are a wondrous mystery
full of depth and light.
so dont you dare,
don't you dare limit the world
and don't you dare limit
your wonderful self

doing ugly things
with pretty people
having bad ideas
with good sensations
destroying yourself with pleasure
screaming red stains
on silent porcelain
piercing floods
in the season of droughts
destroying yourself with yourself

what was i thinking?
it's always been you.
my mind is scattered,
my soul is battered,
but there's light coming through.
maybe i already knew:
it's always been you,
but now that i see,
i see nothing else
except the times you see me
when i see the truth
that it's always been you.

floating words
and touchable sounds
let them fly
let them be
and soon you will feel them
in your bones
in your soul
until one day you find
you are made of this
you are the vibrations
the melodies
and you may even discover
that you can float too

from the beauty of the break of day
to the enchantment of the night,
if his eyes find these words I pray
they shall find in them delight:

at the sparkle of the velvet sky,
at the day-lit cotton blue,
at the very apple of his eye,
at the girl who sees him true;

I long that his ears hear the song,
the duet of wood and brook
that grows in defiance loud and strong
for the branches people took,

for the wanderer between the hills,
for the two birds far apart,
for the battle cry so loud and shrill
of emotion that swells my heart.

i don't trust myself
the words that slip from my trembling lips
the actions fulfilled by my shivering hands
the thoughts that run rampant through my reeling mind
like rivers cutting through a winter-stricken forest
and here i sit shaking
because here i sit freezing
i don't trust myself