Do we hold within us the absolute?
That which is hidden of which we’re confused
What came before reason I can think of
I am a being of false repute
Lovely flowers that correlate
To what I am and what I think of
That come and go leave us to wonder
What is false about their truth
Makes an appearance to my person
Without mention of more than a trace
Have I seen the thing itself
Am I capable of measuring its depth?
A bird flies south because its winter
I know it I see it its called a season
What spoke to it as if a whisper
Was it the sun what are its feathers
Meaning hanging in the rain
I’ve been dancing for a day
I don’t think that I’m insane
I just feel that my mind is place
What if fact comes after night
That light doesn’t always have its place
I’ve no proof of what it is
Perhaps there’s no use to claiming it
Which means love is why we live
The seed of joy our method of change
Transportation just the same
Tonight let’s take the longest of all rails
Am I plenty or am I a ruse
A ray of sun a mound of dust
If I am of what I am composed
What I know is ur eyes in days