There's a shortcut anyone can take to the
heart.
It's about knowing feeling, although senses'
snake doesn't know numbers nor more beyond a
flicking tongue's sensitivity.
So they told me to learn about
testing air, and recognising
messages that arrive and merge with
me.
Each message has a heart,
believe it, and
soon is good to help it
home into my hands.
When my tongue tries to arrive
home, yet no language unlocks the
mighty door,
I've a way to get
there,
no matter what.
To walk that one,
we should stand in the same light
even though it knows nothing more than
arrival, and that waiting for what's
already there.
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