Look thru the pinhole in the hallway in the night
The candles that are burning paint a faint and blurry sight
If seeing is believing then this the whole of life? oh no
Beyond the garden is a door into a room
A door obscured from view unless the ivy is removed
The eyes that open widest have a greatest share of view
Oh no
Sound is mere vibration
Parabolic strolls
First we acknowledge that we don't know anything
This burden now removed we can enjoy a cup of tea
Or sit inside the parlor waiting for the phone to ring
Look thru the pinhole in the hallway after tea
Or sit beside the ocean staring contemplatively
A mind and body once united, standing separately
Oh no
Life is pure vibration
Parabolic strolls
