This Beautiful Song

​This beautiful song
Doesn’t have a goal,
It is the surf
Emerging from the shoal

It is the wind
Blowing from the soul.
Take every creation
Let go of its button hole

And it will rise.
In everything that you learn
In everything you do,
Ignore what it will earn,

And you will reach
The motherlode,
Rise beyond anode
And cathode.

Then freedom 
Will fly down to you,
A wise and gaudy
Cockatoo.

The wind is blowing
It knocks down the signs,
It blows down the priests 
And flattens the shrines,

This hurricanes
Whose deafening roar
Erases the edge
Of road and shore,

Let us strip away,
Purpose, design,
The thinking of human
Cattle and swine.

How odious it seems,
This roaring of the elements,
Devouring the field,
Pulling down the fence,

How quiet inside,
This silent instinct
To be wise, to sing,
To be unlinked,

To be in touch with God,
To live higher
Than targets, happy
In our gold and sapphire.