The Golden Grain
You, your shell
Is one of them;
Its words echo distantly
While your grain floats like a star overhead,
Appears separate, tied by a thread.
Itís what speaks, what looks
Around the world with wide open eyes,
A body that shines so bright
In a flowing colored myriad.
And your substantial form
Is a gray toned shadow
Whose eyes are dull,
Whose voice is a whisper
That echoes over the mountain ranges
Of lonely windswept chalk.
The worlds should switch;
The one unseen
Bursts with the colors of every dream.
While this world of colors our eyes convey,
(Close your eyes and the crowded hall where you stood
Is empty, abandoned, silent
And you walk through alone in the world)
Painted in shades of gray.
Reopen your eyes to the bustling world
Again and again Ė but always the same.
Close your eyes once more and wander
Through silence, in search of the golden grain.
When you find it the worlds are righted,
The outside repainted to match whatís in
As the world inside seeps through the veil,
The barrier, your skin.
People are pretty Ė how can you choose one body?
Donít look for somebody.
I donít know what else to do
But sit here without a clue.
And I, Iím happy,
Happier than Iíve ever been,
And Iíve only just realized,
Going, ďhuh, thatís interesting,
To find myself at a constant B.Ē