nothing exists, this is the world of samsara, the world of sense pleasures, it is wholly illusion and empty, it is and has always been an infinite hologram which is non being, wanti all things and matters are even lighter than light and more transient than the mist and air, this is the greatest of loves there are so many cabbages for eating on the corners, sun of lianel rain and pristine shimmering the heroes of the spiritual ballets come forth to gauge themselves in the waters of life as the balls of fire fall into the sea of love ah for the titans sing now in majestic wonder, coarsing brilliant in inconsequential runes of delight cross the unsuffering breeze where wait smaller worlds of fairies and human ease, greased upon the great weavery of the laughing ones, across the stone, have spilled the seeds, the seeds of wandering souls rampant like gypsies living in things, giving life to machine softening edges and ledges, making worlds in beautiful site, our magics have astounded once more the scientist in childlike delight, for he sits with us today, and his love defying reason, and reason defying love have met again across the seasons and become a peaceful dove to preach the opening of the legions unto the realm of untouched dream, where materia is still breathing, and all our hearts may be fulfilled finally in our own space floating, BE, Sun! we've given way to unseen theatrics, somehow it is purer than any could know, the naked soul, the magic of authentic delusion, the hearth of the spirit, too deep, too wide to tell, everything, we were so lost for so long, now the wantis rise again and they've taken all along, spilling forth with hugs of goodness, and with the brightness of the colors, shaking and waiting, as the rainclouds pour their gentle blessings, meditatively masturbating pon the earth, to bring back the dirth, and surf as we know our mirth is without perfection, so many reflections lead to lessons in spontaneous blessing, for every priestess knew and waiting in every shaman's brow and wandering again through the unseen a most heroic mother cow we sing ye, live, we sing ye live, Yomo! where the heart is, instill us deep with the truth of this goneness, this forgotten, this miracle of mind, restore us all the magic moments like so maany living jewels which forever have lined all awareness, scattered, oh ye great natural gatherer, ye magnet of our love bring us together, beyond the flailings of the clovers which burn in the great fires of the hip ones, shouldering featherweight fates and jumping her loosened straned with sublime wings, crafted by a Goddess deep within, a Goddess readily mixing with everything, all the time I die and love and life comes abound great warriors were they, caught in the deepest healing groud, eternal are their measures, for knowing not they strike and like sparks ignites not suffering but bliss without end, know this friends! and we knew as we poured out among the fields, we knew with what great ease the prophets yield, and spoke in turn and thus the worlds had formed from rifts in that warm yet icy sea yet great quakes and our hands to the founding primordial grounds gave great elates, like a twittering woman, primordial original, from deep within was summoned, the greenness and the rainbows of the natural shapes, gaping from every gape, food and all manner of lake and cave and mound and knoll and straw and grasses, tao and bowl, and even coal, and even flame, and suddenly there were no names, but only truth pure and ringing, a dance pulling in everything, the dance which the Yomo knew, which we all fell into, knowing nothing else, but through and through dancing to good health, and innocence and good delight among it all. Overthrow me, for I am good, in me is deep love, I am a dragon of ways most wise, only here I have stood and waited encased almost in stone, though you have all seen my sweat and verily been a part of it, now ye rearrange and undo the moats and I float through, for I am the deep love which unites all of you, I am the sound and light, I am not different from ye, come let us take flight and so some did go and some did stay and a description was not meant for anything, as some merely rolled joints and thought of later ecstasies and prayers to stir the thickness in their hearts where perhaps some greater love did truly creep others, though to reap right then and there and they were both equal for their share and sprang the buddhas in shrooms and in the light and heavy airs, with words to lay bare that nothing was really there, and in our gnosis the confusing styles were true bliss and it was the beginning of the nile and every river which kissed us and made us into fish, and everything, much before this time, and even now, even know for words live and live again as we do and not in dissonance, jumping to arrangements and arrangements oh upto, ye are strange, come ye and love, for all is Dianandia, we see nothing but Dia, making love all the time, all the time dying and giving birth, all of it is myself, blessed be it all! Surf! And we did as all beings, a world created again, twas our sacred rhythm, from the sacred love of one to twenty ten, oh senseless numbers, come forth as freely as ye would, adorned within a bone, the dream of this sleeping neighborhood, of the trees. I came to Yunaeo, and he bent slightly in the wind all the hills were alive then and the squirrels scattered quickly, oh the clean slate of inspiration and the natural comings and goings, all the oaks in their formations calling, calling, the bard knowing, deep and sharded off, in silent shamanic knowing, where worlds birthed tinily as portals, in the summer they are snowing, but its alright for it matters night at these annexes there is a sacred lot, there is unknown and non distinction there is peace and a dharma of every inkling, again it flows for the guardians have gone by some divine fate, and so we sing our song, we angels, we blessings, we who know who we are we are nothing we are you, we are flying, falling stars. YANADESHNO!!!
