Thursday, 24 April 2008

So fly to sing a fragile song


The stories have been sold
with terrible profits,
just to let you drive all-night
in a hypnotic beat.

Forever young in plain desire
on the top of the ice mountain
empty handed again and again.


Only wisdom dreams the moment
in the eternal garden of light and dark
in infinite measures completely aware.

Some things can unfold
in a open fragile source called freedom,
the 4th state.

No thought can infect it,
it’s wireless that crazy little thing
called Love
we are made of it,
wonderful creative
Stardust Children underneath the Sun.

No comments: