Deep sleep is nearest
that to what I am
and day is time to suffer
all delusions contrary
until I know this that
I am. The moon repeats
as specified. Returning to
the source, the sun is guided
by the cryptic goddess of
our underworld with dark
surreal and swirling dreams
of baby corn and kings,
of river-ways and rings,
of thoughts and things.
Until another day
arrives and sings.
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