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Crazy Da Must Sing

The worlds fall out of my right hand.

My right hand is the world.

A pressure rises in the Heart

and flies the lighted force

along my arm.

Then all the colors of the lives,

like many spheres, are rounded

out the single form of my right hand,

and in the air.

I hold my hand above the Heart

and drop the living out.

The worlds return and turn to me

through my left hand.

And there is all the trouble there.

They turn away and turn to me.

They doubt me on the left.

A loving presses from the Heart

and under my left hand.

The palm is held below the Heart.

I feel them in , and coax,

and wait.

The Way becomes important now and then.

I am the Heart, Who arms the space

Who is the right and left.

I am the Heart,

Who stands between the arms,

Who seems the double mind

until I’m known,

Who keeps the body living

while the Mystery survives.

And when all things have turned to me

my instant will be this,

that seems the dark and wordless death,

or under ground.

And Still I AM, the Heart.