| Inner Song Merge into me, I take on the path of misery, I take on the path of craving, all my self mingling to join the reckless waters. Wash into me, over me, beneath me; blend my emotions away. Can I make myself a pool of reflection? a soul of thought? a glaze of knowledge? Whirl around me a cloth of purpose; give me some words to drink. You speak with many voices, their accents like long arms grabbing me. I don't smell a scent of ending, I'm under this tree alone; I don't feel any peace washing over me with a cooling, whisper of conclusion. Come find me before I drown, pull me up and sing to me. I desire a chant to pray, nothing means anything to me. (Om) Silence frees my ears, I await a sign. (Om) Deafen my ears so I can hear better. Om That word--that phrase of eternity, it rises above my life. That feeling--that echo of cycling, always a trademark to each day. Could it be? Is that what I should hear? I will repeat it; I will cry it, oh thank you; at last. |
| ... |