On the descent deeper into madness,
somewhere between the pencil and the page,
I stumbled into a font of gladness,
and I splashed my feet in the flowing stage:
There were mountains on high, and a gully,
its ice resembled crystal chandeliers,
shining forth with a bright solar folly,
maintaining intact all our frozen fears:
But that was the past. I am now nearer
to the source of all flow, the fluid stream.
Un-dammed by all time, undaunted river,
how you clear out my thought and make it dream!
I must dive down deep, towards the rippling sound,
down where ice is unhinged and doubts are drowned.

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