We All Fall Through

A lotus flower of light, shedding petals at its seasons’ end,

As jasmine leaves that shine so bright,

And blaze with purgatorial intent;

Dissolving on the silent lake

That shimmers in the moonlight wake,

The blossoming of phoenix wings that writhe and shake,

To instigate the end of all beginning;

As golden petals swimming, so awake

In circular siroccos of light;

As a creature reaching out into the night,

Crying for the moon to realize

That none too soon, its artful dying will ignite.

A spirit tail to crystalize how the phoenix feels its flight,

In diamond dust to see its eyes, and dissolve into the light;

And reappraise the cages that were raised

And how such wings were kept to behave.

We all fall through into the silent summer,

Where the pregnant buzz of fireflies,

Swarm into a secret jungle stammer,

And a ritual disguise, is melting off our ancient face;

The inferno eyelids spill into the space

And fill this empty matter, as nectar pouring

Down into a beaker, filling every form and

Therefore joining it together;

As a fire in every rain drop of the weather.

We all fall through into the greater picture,

Where unimaginable images flourish right before us,

And the mixture is adjusted thus,

That we can see the concoction of the potion,

Evolving an equation of revolving transformation,

We all fall through into the great dimension

Where the mention of a sentence is never-ending

Invention; And the end is the beginning,

And the beginning never ended,

And all will be well, when this has once been mended;

And we are here again.