Dreamstuff we seem to be
Mushrooming from starry mystery
Weaving a self from pieces of history
Swallowing certainty infusions
Nostalgic for tomorrow and other illusions

When our dreams are emptied of us
There is nothing we don’t encompass
What needs doing is done best
When in utter mystery we rest
Settle thus in undressed being
Until the dreamer of dreamers is seen

Eternity’s offspring we appear to be
Playing hide-and-seek with our history
With more than enough time
To show up as every possible design
If appearing as all things is our destiny
Then being awakened by all things
Is how we’re set free

Where we are is sacred, sacred is the ground
O Feel the sacred inside and all around
Let’s bow to it until there’s only bowing
Only something beyond knowing
Calling us into its great heart
Its untranslatable presence
Its endless art
Its absolute
Silence