So goes the holy rolling epicenter
The master nods awash
Each joyous mounting flood,
Or velvet ambrosial elixir
Drawn from the mystic sea,
Nor in a starship lightyears onward,
Or magic carpet ride to anyplace,
My home sweet where
Sweet anywise,
Nor are words just words
But bouncing sounds,
Or sounds just sounds
But onrushing inner auditory kingdoms
Playing symphonies, interwoven
By the architecture of a newly fueled,
New humanity waxing
On a higher test of further love,
To whom should we grind our teeth
Or toll our bell to?
No one else does anything,
A sign depends on what the moon is in,
Golden dust within the deeps of anytime,
In searching for your nothingness, infinite,
In all this groveling
Perhaps it’s found
That priceless gem
In priceless crimes of deepest love
All dialed up in dust
Of what’s surrendered there,
In all the naughts
And every below abounding
Every star that’s ever anyplace,
The light deep inside the heart of anytime,
Give us this day our box of love;
In a precognitively transducive,
Illuminative wave
I sing this poem,
This push, this shove
This anything;
A jealously suggestive inner rhapsody,
A yellow mustard seedling sowing
Someone’s something hope,
A blustery sea-green gale of wind
Rustling through infinity,
Resurrection day,
Anywhere –

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