grove of stars a universe of trees

wonderful wonderful thunder full sky

i slink along like a rat in a hold with an old burden

the streets are all the same when you lost in a garden

loki like look alike implicated in such subtle stupid mischief

what a shock when you realise yes magic does exist

god exists spirit exists endless succession of lives

weight of all my incarnations crushing me sweet beetle like

all those hundreds of people back and through time

on all the planets on all the planes

suddenly they are all mine to wield

i get the best of them now

if i say dance the dancer dances

if i say listen then all become listening itself

if i say hold still and be quiet they hold off for a while

when restlessness sets in i face a rebellion

the thousand gone versions of me against the one living me

we want this and that is rushing in my blood streams out and out

when i go i will join them

an impression in some newman as yet inchoate

restless roaming phantoms at home in my head

whispering prophets obscure mumbling madmen little jerks

long dethroned kings talking to themselves somewhere in my heart

melancholic girls i was once was sifting through the fading sands

the errand boys and the footsoldiers of endless wars forever forgotten

in some matrix or field i marshall my people warrior and hag

the sailor the corsican the african the thief

the intruder the conductor the priest and the midwife

the singer the veteran the waitress the wife

the hunter the milliner the fletcher the doorman

the squire the prisoner the accused the nobleman

the petit bourgeois the oracle the idiot the architect

the wizard the teacher the sister the salesman

the ballerina the cripple the boxer the coward

the saracen the persian the celt and the anglo

the hindu the writer the guard and the farmer

swirling and whirling in their worlds within whorls

i discharge universal energy straight out of my palms

but i dont understand how to pull on my shoe

songs fly to me in some one elses dreams

i drink them from ruptures where reality bursts

god talks to me drowned out by silence

its so hard for them all to be still to listen to hymn

where the places intersect you’ll find me with a net of words

sitting under the ashes that grow from the banks of Icelandic flow

the languages baffle me but the thoughts are always the same

where today and yesterday merge

at that very second split forever by the date

in the ringing darkness of my room

i enter sleep

and the doors to all the memory is flung open

and all will have their way