To that which moves, to that which moves, Which penetrates the universal shine And shimmy, Roundabout, where other isn’t Within, without, non-centric circle thing, All light that which in most the light begins Nor knows, nor can, who descant; Because in drawing near to what is dear Our swallowy mind perspires and jealous folds Into itself where memory cannot go. Truly whatever the realm holistic Powerful treasures, body and mind, Mind of which I thee sing. Apollo, creed of the living Vessel me in thy talented power Bower of joy and sound! One sum, it adds up to nought, For me for you for both Swim to the center and cry. If you can imagine, you, and breathe In deepest drawing scent While I watch in awe and innocence. Ten cents a dance, the best That I can do, shadow of the realm Stamped in my brain, blessed, so what. Once there was a tree and a crown Underneath it all and nevertheless leaves, Which shall you choose, O! So seldom, Father, so seldom, do we, But we try, we have to try and of human inspiration can we? So back to the leaves and so forth, They fall all over the crown, Where is it I say? I say But no one answers. Maybe better voices, better voices after me, after me. Alleluia. Please respond!