sheer energy in a skin of form
dances to an ever-being rhythm
in golden rays of shimmering light
against black walls of space and time
something there is akin to light
that drives apart all heaviness
from gravid tug and viscous flow
to curling wave and buoyant air
the breeze that rocks the spider's web
and blows aloft the thistle-seed
is planted in the flow of sap
and in the pulse of driven blood
many rhythms dance the universe;
in light all sex and seasons wave
whose flux contains the teeming life
of time slow-measured by earth's spin
a dance analogous to mind,
that light of self whose nimble thought
through a maze of shifting words must mock
the planet which it warms and feeds
to grasp life's total paradigm
throw wide your window to the night
and watch, to star-tunes echoed here,
gold-shoes beat on a floor of ebony