It's almost two in the afternoon,
the sun is out, birds whistle their tune.
From this mountain top I can see,
with crystal clear clarity,
the former land I used to stay
far, far away from play.

A butterfly lands on my arm,
“I see you've found the secret”, says its gaze.
I nod and say without alarm,
“I've stepped out of the maze”.

Then it lifted up and away
and my eyes followed to the city below,
I saw joy smothered by dismay;
frozen ebb craving flow.

I wanted to feel grief
but that passed in a blink,
all I had was relief
that I was free to think.

It's almost three in the afternoon,
the sun is out, birds whistle their tune.
From this mountain top I can see,
with crystal clear clarity,
the former land I used to stay
far, far away from play.

My sweat attracts the dust
and I begin to smear.
Still, I'm confident in my trust
that I'm supposed to be here.

My hair is long and mangled,
filled with grease and grime,
it protrudes out every angle
a tangible fragment of time.

The cool breeze blows by
whispering secrets never heard,
in an original lullaby,
never observed by the herd.

It's almost four in the afternoon,
the sun is out, birds whistle their tune.
From this mountain top I can see,
with crystal clear clarity,
the former land I used to stay
far, far away from play.

It keeps her warm
her mind so weak
Not to know
not to seek

With every bite we eat
we starve one another
Then giving four mans share of food
as to save one brother

Corners cut and people swooned
jumping miles ahead
Who minds what the farmer does
as long as there is bread?

Thus I will hide my blade
and do this for my love
In my pocket and to the grave
No storm left while I dwell above.

It keeps her warm
her mind so weak
Not to know
not to seek.

There are no bad people and there
Are no bad things and the
Music's always playing, always ringing, always singing
Cos the music that surrounds you, penetrates you, lacerates you
Is no different from the substance of your being,
All vibrations merely differentiated unities
You are gliding through that energy field
And consciously! How strange indeed
You're a kaleidoscopic porthole into
All that can ever be
You keep moving through time,
Accidentally rhyming, caught up in the games of the intellect
And introspectively, you can't believe what your
Mind tells you you are
Because you are and you aren't
There's not one true way to know it
If a word could capture what you are,
Then it wouldn't be true
Because the thought and spoken word
Is skewed so distant from the root
But the word is just a path to understanding what the source could be
A way to help the others see
What's going on at the edges of the galaxy