Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

There is no still point in all the Universe, and that is the rock upon which I stand

Friday, May 16, 2008

Tat Tvam Asi in B Minor

and so it came to pass, like everything before it
that matter hardly mattered, and heaven did adore us
for what was real and what was not, like two peas in a pod
gave to the kingdom of dead priests the verities of god

the keys were cut to break the locks, the locks to mock the task
the game was on to win the light, and in god's light to bask
like happy kids at play on swings, moving to and fro
one merely had to pray and sing, then everything would show

but playground's are nefarious, after the sun has set
and games once played for merriment can turn to awful jest
turning in the dimming light, the senses are invoked
and everywhere are dirty spies who've come your neck to choke

we want this life, the brethren thought, to be just like the next
perhaps a few adjustments made, perhaps a better rest
but we as children should remain, and listen to the father
ask not what lurks in god's domain, tell no one what you saw there

stand up in church, stand tall, declare and sing his praises
turn from all the witches who dance through lunar phases
turn away from mother earth, for she of dust was born
bend your knee to only he who burns your life with scorn

but how shall the kingdom be approached, we're not responsible
we are in fact of small import, and god's calendar is full
should we look too closely on the maker in the made
would we not, maturing thus, give up this weak charade?

fragments lay upon the hill, the place where souls were born
made of gaps and asteroids that fly around the horn
the maker that was never found exists in all that's made
we are the dreamer and the dream, we are the milky way



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