I know that the world is in front of me,
but I cannot see beyond the scenery.
Although it is something so obvious,
seemingly it lives in my periphery.
I know that the world is a-wandering,
but I cannot see the path in front of me.
Old animal, ancient and powerful,
will I ever see your totality.
I know there is
a ghost that lives
in time, in step,
behind your head.
I know that the wind can be seen only
by noticing the leaves dancing in the trees.
Will I ever participate
in a formless thing that only demonstrates?
Like moon, massaging the ocean
with invisible fingers and magic lotions.
I know that the world is a mystery,
but sometimes they take that away from me.
I know there is
a ghost that lives
in step, in time,
behind your mind.
And I pull away
your barricades.
And I break them in,
your partitions.
And I open wide,
your doors that slide.
And I break them in,
your doors that swing.
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