Now my five sensesgather into a meaningall acts, all presences;and as a lily gathersthe elements together,in me this dark and shining,that stillness and that moving,these shapes that spring from nothing,become a rhythm that dances,a pure design.
While I'm in my five sensesthey send me spinningall sounds and silences,all shape and colouras thread for that weaver,whose web within me growingfollows beyond my knowingsome pattern sprung from nothing-a rhythm that dancesand is not mine.
