Crazy Da Must Sing
Every body is an island for its one.
The “I”, adrift in space,
is masted to its earth core.
The body, bright, rising slightly
on the ocean and
the currents of life-light.
A single tree is also rising there,
antennae to the sky of mind.
A plant of nerves,
its root in sex and foliated brain.
That tree surveys the earth and sky,
the mindful scene, the move of life,
and would uncapture this attentive ‘I’.
How can this island fly or drown?
To what space can space be gone?
This isle will be forgotten
when the source of “I” is found.”