You gave yourself to the god who comes, The liberator of the loud shout, While I fell into a trance, Blood on my lips, And stumbled into a temple on top Of a hill at the bottom of the sky.
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove Dance me to the end of love /Leonard Cohen
Hence is it that a city street Can deepest thought impart, For all its people, high and low, Are kindred to my heart;
And in the rhythm of the swim I hummed a two-four-time slow hymn
And so, ending here my journey, as the hummingbird put a drop of nectar In the Lotus Flower of my heart
Unlike the cows he lives alone, nozzles the sweet grass gingerly to pass the time away
It could be a piece of art Something beautiful to behold But it’s purpose is to be eaten It’s cake
In the rainforest it’s loud; everything makes a sound Every drip and drop is heard, as the rain drops plop