when certain voices speak
something inside me pricks up unseen ears
inviting the best of schizophrenia: mind, ego, body, the Deep
we are a lot of trouble - our degrees, you, and me
and the scientific way with the unknowable
knowing nothing of that which dwells within WE
yet when powerful suns glow and speak
the uneducated part of me listens like a child again
to voices back from India, familiarly sweet
lulling this plastic shell with data and pixel to sleep
so my own light - Deep, Deepak - is like Father Fire again
while through windows stained, sons peek
LISTEN! Listen intently ... imperceptibly gentle voices
Singing of a once glorious Ganges, mighty Mississippi, magnificent Missouri
How to sing when overcome by men and women's vices
when Grandfather Spirit is hung from a totem pole for psuedo-science
but the Data was always here, is here, will always be
light and sound allow my atom to cross the silence
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