There is a moon that could be mistaken for a flame 
Is there a flame that could be mistaken for a moon?

There is life with-in, not -out 
Brought out-side by an aspiring astronaut

Yet the out-side is still with-in 
Everything is with-in

With thousands with-ins 
Is everything with-out

(empty-handed thieves in an empty house)

There’s a doe-girl melded with the desert floor 
She says we’re not moving anywhere; everything moves through us

"Isn't she beautiful?" whispers the crowd 
I nod silently, naming the flowers on her arms

The doe-girl lights a stick of cinnamon bark 
The scent fills the desert hall

A giant butterfly flutters its wings because people sit on a swing 
a pendular simplification of a known effect

I can’t recall the tiny butterflies 
Why did I forget them?

Walk to the temple 
Walk each time you forget about the tiny ones

Realize that escaping reality 
Is fool-filling in for what’s forgotten

And forgetting what's full-filled