Strange that it's over again --
Something must close and open this time
It's not quite real
Trying so hard to be natural
Authentic and rich and glorius with meaning
Only perceived much too late
Sad inhibitions filtering far too many
Of the fleeting crazy things you've had
And the moment is never known
For what it is
But it must stay, this time,
And rush out and make things real
And known and experienced
So that the phases will be entangled
Before it ends again.

J. Horne