Life is a whimsical dream, spent in a cave of solitude.
The sun moves and shadows create images of countless shapes and colors.
THE IMAGES ARE REAL!
Like the wind shaking blossoms off of trees
And sending deep vibrations that rattle the bones.
The wind blows, crows sing, people bustle,
Creating a song to some intangible beat.
The world is the song and you…
Oh, man-o-war, the dancer.
Because soon, the song will end
And the world will
Go to sleep.