A Secret Passage and a Cloud Covered Moon
In the back of my closet is a secret tunnel.
It’s a passage meant for seekers,
Fizzing, bubbling, and spinning down through the quarky nuclei of time.
I often watched them swimming towards that nano-second slit.
Not me, though; I had too many here who loved me, or so I supposed.
And I was dizzy with life,
Smelling horses and leather saddles,
Smelling dry timber and wet growing twigs,
Smelling pine needles in the early morning.
And I was afraid of the dark.
I carry an inner lamp these days, with some crumpled money and silver coins.
There’s a cloud covered moon tonight I am told,
There’s a cloud covered moon tonight I am told,
And there’s nobody knows how deep it goes.
And I'll go along with the ride.