I want to wriggle out of the old skin
The old food, the old emotions
The old tactics of fear and anger
Truly, I cannot breathe like that any more.
The old food, the old emotions
The old tactics of fear and anger
Truly, I cannot breathe like that any more.
Please, look. Everything transforms.
To escape the past that shaped us,
One must die
Or be transformed
Or maybe, both, since some things can only be erased in the grave
I walk with quiet little feet. Hospitality is paramount.
One must die
Or be transformed
Or maybe, both, since some things can only be erased in the grave
I walk with quiet little feet. Hospitality is paramount.
(Please, look outside.)
Humans could stampede like a pack of lemmings over cliff side
And the birds feast,
And everything transforms.
But in the meantime I will continue to wriggle out
To achieve a movable truce
With peace
With food
With stuff
With people
With love
With God and all the powers that be.
To achieve a movable truce
With peace
With food
With stuff
With people
With love
With God and all the powers that be.
My own righteousness,
Humbled to dust and ash by vast upheaving ages of transformation,
By huge galaxies of light and dark that spin out to destinations inconceivable-
( I am obliterated..and yet, I live)
By the grace of benevolence..
Humbled to dust and ash by vast upheaving ages of transformation,
By huge galaxies of light and dark that spin out to destinations inconceivable-
( I am obliterated..and yet, I live)
By the grace of benevolence..
Is it then that we die to our dejection
And live always to benevolence?
And live always to benevolence?
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