Reality within The Complete plays
With the sun and the moon
like a dog with a new bone.
It dreams of the falling flower
and comes to birth in the yellow dream
of the the passing sunrise.
It is a bell next to a book waiting to be opened;
Scampering through the star paths,
Eagerly seeking the joys unknown
To revellers of finite pleasures.
It can not be known without
the strings of the heart.
It can not cry in the quiet wind,
It must dance in the night of our hearts
like a fading melody.