At the thought of time passing.
The outside world shadowy
As your deepest self.
Melancholy meadows, trees so still,
They seem afraid of themselves.
The sunset sky for one brief moment
Radiant with some supreme insight,
And then it's over. Tragic theater:
Blood and mourning at which
Even the birds fall silent.
Spirit, you who are everywhere and nowhere,
Watch over the lost lamb
Now that the mouth of the Infinite
Opens over us
And its dumb tongue begins to move darkly.
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