in that moment of perfect poise
there was hardly  any real choice
but to articulate this joyful noise
from the brow of a  mystical rise
sown in my fertile heart by pain
carried on the wings of cold rain
as my frayed ego wept; and out
of a stout bravado with no clout
launched dead end-time messages
and called time on euphoric illusions
friends i tell you, life keeps its secrets
and angels and phantoms their comments
let us then open our hearts to muffled joy
the prize for those who bore the price of delusion