At first, the Universe
Was a body of feeling
(Only without feeling bodies).
But there were always thoughts,
Small thoughts.
As simple as little atoms;
Spinning madrigals,
Turning to a rhyme scheme
Learned by heart.

There are no laws in anything, really;
Poems, atoms,
Only Lord God, feeling,
Pleasant dispositions.

There are no individuals,
Only one body of feeling
(Divisible at times to feeling bodies,
But always reuniting).

We are be a momentary splash,
Waiting while we come to one again.
And love is feeling,
Seeking common levels,
(Preliminary tastes).

There are three phases,
Blind of one another,
But there is only one substance.

Hell is not understanding,
But Heaven is this
(And always was):
There is no wrong
And there is no alone.

(written 6:00 p.m, Tuesday, June 7, 1966)


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