The air hangs heavy with incense smell,
The mist has turned to fog and
the world melts away.

The seasons have drunk up all my tears,
Though others do not see
I am frail – and not what they think.

The Monkey's Moon is rising,
Another year is passing,
And this day is endless -
But I smile when they ask me
Some half heard question.

They believe I am a rock
But I am the petals of a flower.

Will you hear?
                      Will you come?
Will you face the things unknown?
Will you pass the test of fire,
Can you face you own desire?
What name shall I call you by
If you think that you might try?

Can you see?
                     Can you tell?
Can you do the things that must be done?
Can you know the truth that is unheard,
Will you stand by me without a word?
What are you prepared to do
If the question has been put to you?

Pieces broken everywhere
   There!
by the coffee *** I see one,
   who knows why it was left
and over by the chair,

I do not think this used to happen,
but these days I find the pieces all the time...
sometimes they're plain
sometimes they rhyme
Little pieces of my mind...

a buzzer sounds to say it's time
   now where is that fragment of my mind?
I better set the next alarm
Or surely something won't get done -
   Oh yes, I guess I need a drink,
that would have been the one
   I saw beside the coffee ***,
and wasn't I about to write
but wait there's art that must get done
   or was it – oh a buzz again
there's something else that needs
   attention from another piece
how did I do it way back when?