a thread that is the same colour as the night.
Out, out along the narrow highway sails my mind,
driven by curiosity,
luminous with acceptance,
far and out,
like a feathered hook whipped deep into the light above the stream by a
Somewhere, out of my reach, my control, the hook unbends into a spear,
the spear sheers itself into a needle,
and the needle sews the world together
It sews the skin onto the skeleton and lipstick on a lip
It sews scarves onto mountains,
it goes through everything like a renlentless bloodstream,
and the tunnel is filled with a comforting message, a beautiful knowledge of unity.
All the disparates of the world,
the different wings of the paradox,
coin-faces of problem,
all the polarities,
things and their images and things which cast no shadow,
and just the everday explosions on the street,
this face and that,
a house and a toothache,
explosions which merely have different letters in their names,
My needle pierces them all,
and I myself,
my greedy fantasies,
everything which has existed and does not exist.
We are part of a necklace of incomparable beauty and unmeaning.
- Leonard Cohen