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!
