In need of suspension
To feel for disbelief
Parting from dissension
As the cure to find relief
Lift the lid off this attention
Learn to search upon your knees
Gift the gifts of freed ascension
Learn to sail upon the seven seas
In the midst of the passing
Called up by images and dreams
There to find by the final lashings
Nowhere is ever what it seems
In the need of right direction
To feel alive for all he pleads
Apart though from exemption
The cure is in the founding deeds
Lift the lid off this confession
Learn to fall beside the reeds
Gift the gifts of clear impression
Learn to rally by counting trees
In the midst of those harassing
Carried on by the poet’s screams
There alone in the final romancing
Nowhere is not at all what it seems
