We put on these bodies
but, they never fit that well.
Life. Life so short-we can't bear it.
The pain of our longing is a cry
caught forever in the throat of creation.
The light breaks through dark clouds,
and the beauty of the world washes in
and flows into every ocean.
Time is the great magician who flicks his cape
to give the mechanical lie to creation.
But time can only
delay the eternal,
while it puts a mask on the god-head
and hides reality in an alarm clock.
We put on these bodies
but they never fit that well.
The song of the earth is sung
the melody echoes through our bones.
