PROCESS

inspired by Plato

All these people

black to gold,

all these people

growing old,

shades and shadows

wandering souls,

all we people

growing old.

Traveling ‘cross the stage of now,

blindly going, missing how,

all these people

large and small,

puffed up shadows,

beggars all.

All these people

black to gold,

all these people

growing old.

How to reach out?

How to touch?

How to leave behind the crutch?

All these people

in the cave,

some of them

are being brave,

moving slowly toward the light,

bearing burning by the bright.

All these people

black to gold,

all these people

growing old.

Secret rite of alchemy,

what to will and how to be?

Who to follow,

what to hear?

Is there no firm answer near?

All these people

black to gold,

all we people

growing old.

All we people

growing old.