Each unexpected gasp, familiar roar
As it comes, comprehensible as wind,
Received whole, pure, as known from before.
The suffering's sent to the other end,
The flame automatically breaks the air,
A disembodied voice speaks to who you are,
A ghost reminds you are alive and bare
From somewhere else, as remote as the stars,
Until you're surrounded by what's not you,
Chasing what's not real as if it's what's true
As the music froths to its aching top
And the material world disappears
To a higher ideal, more solid and clear.
There's just longing and the void when it stops.
