I see and hear and touch
Things entering perception
But what, I wonder, lies beneath?
What is the nature of that which moves the heart?

The mythical mystic behind the satin curtain giggles
He knows not that he is mere myth
He knows not the limits imposed
By the perception of the imperceptive
He feels not constrained
By the thoughts of the thinking mind

In my deeper mind’s ear
I hear the odd sound
The giggling stream of light
The gurgling river of life
The light and sound beneath perception

So I ask him
The mystic
Giggling and gurgling
Odd, but knowing

I ask him…

And this is what I think I hear…
(Though, one can never be quite sure of these voices beneath the real thinking mind.)

The power of touch
Is granted to all
No consequence
Whether old or still small

The power to feel
Is chosen by most
Who stop trying to drive
To breathe in and coast

The power of quiet
Is found by a few
It restores perfection
So old becomes new

The power of mystery
On the other side of peace
Opens new eyes
When vision finds release

The power of truth
That light pervades all
Wonderful energy
In ripples, we fall

The power of love
Moves the mystic’s mind
From a world that doesn’t matter
To another, colorful, divine

But beneath all these mysteries
Or above if you prefer
Lies the real power of all
Taste it, you’ll concur

The power of the mystics
Hidden in a transparent place
Open your heart and eyes
Brave the lost embrace

Dive into perfection
And all will become real
I dare you now to join me
Let not your thoughts congeal

I wake from the dream, rub the sleep from my eyes. And somewhere in the distance, somewhere inside the walls, I’m sure I hear a light and tasty giggle...