“I hear the voice of a fanatic
where the water falls on rocks;
it’s almost brutally ecstatic
and it can’t relate to clocks.
There are some stars above the pines,
oscillating back and forth,
then, inexplicably, light shines
like an explosion in the north.
The silence of the shadows
that are bowing to the moon
is penetrating through the windows
like the midnight sun at noon.
I’m very glad you’re safe and sleeping
because tonight will never end,
and I’m alone, awake, and keeping
an appointment with a friend.
The survivors learn from history,
unless it’s not exactly true,
and if the world’s a murder-mystery,
then this beauty is a clue.
Invisible, approaching, alien machine,
ultra-violet and spinning,
white welcome fire that makes it clean
is the only prize worth winning."
A night in the mountains beside a loud waterfall becomes surreal as the speaker contemplates the similarity between the refining of gold and of the spirit.