The coffin lid slams shut
On another day
And it glides politely
Through the curtains
Into the fire.
I followed a girl in the street today,
Bewitched by her magnificent bottom,
A sculptor’s dream,
Round as the earth.
Forever separating
Beauty from ugliness,
Designating, classifying,
Turning away,
Always feeling there must be something better,
Somewhere out of sight,
I watch the heavens like an Aztec priest,
So terribly alive,
Suffering the passage of the sun.
Test your strength against the night,
Bear with its counsel.
There is no order without disorder,
No form without formlessness.
The power that possesses me
When, retrieving my balance,
I stand foursquare on the earth,
And gaze into the future,
Afraid of nothing, ready for all.
Music is love
To the wishful heart,
All-absorbing, all-transforming.
Why should I fear falling
When all I am is sound?
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