through all life is truth spoken
soft as trees whispering
subtle as pine cones flowering
the great mystery is no mystery
there is nothing to be known
it can only be lived


dedicated to Carol:

pain, pain, so cold the wind
why does the rain fall down
a songbird no longer sings
sad from wings that will not fly
but nobody gives a shit
the unicorn hasn’t a friend in the world
yet somehow it never seems to be lonely

in a grain of rice
there is a precious gem
but who can see it?

in a blade of grass
there is a great forest
but who can hear it?

in a rose petal
there is a jade empress
but who can smell it?

in a drop of rain
there is a pure ocean
but who can taste it?

in a single hair
there is a universe
but who can feel it?