I think, and you speak my thoughts completely.
Wherein lies truth, if when I die, I lose myself.
My thought and deed lying fallow in decaying tissue.
So I write to save me.
You are in every thought, every deed,
every movement that I make.
You complete me.
When I awake, the first breath that
I take is to exhale a sigh of relief.
You are still by my side.
My soul belongs to God, but my essence
lies in the intangible.
In a form acutely digestible----
to be cussed and discussed.
In discourse, to be thoroughly scrutinized,
labeled and passed on.
The song is rewrit time and time again
and the note of passion sounds
as now within me seething----flowing over.
It dances on the grass
as nymphs in springtime forests.
I close one eye and look at truth
as the side of a coin standing mute.
I look at life spinning, good—bad—good.
But who decides bad- - - good?
The spinning coin has a solid center
which we perceive as real.
The spinning word has the same illusion- - -
we have but to interpret as we see.
Life goes on, after the thrill is gone, but
the thrill goes on as long as we are not alone.