As this cricket sometimes needs to be
A fairy with a wand -- Identity
Is that which metamorphosizes,
Taking with it every idea, which,
Like the cricket, dissolves when it finds
The right frequency, into a master ideal,
The ethereal cricket, which pulses
With a life too deeply kept inside
This pale likeness, the physical world.
It's a life that dissolves galaxies
In its need of unknown light,
Makes nebulae rise like pottery.
