Written by Daicho

Inward, a gathering of sages.

Outward, a pool of weightless water.

Flesh delivered to the ground,

Mind dissolved into the air:

Whose moment is this from here?

Even a glimpse will slay the first idiot,

But how will you handle the millions that follow?

In every perception the sphere coalesces,

The music starts over, the rumblings return.

Laying waste to the carnival of personhood,

You miss the secret light through the smoke.

The show is one long intermission

Punctuated by actors and words.

Watch the dancing puppets — and love.

There is no puppeteer to bribe.