Prisms

-What is beheld through glass seems glass. The quality of what I am Encases what I am not, Smooths the strange world. I perceive it slowly In my time, In my material, As my pride, As my possession: The vision is love. When life crashes like a cracked pane, Still shall I love Even the slight grass and the patient dust. -Death also sees, though darkly, And I must trust then as now Only another kind of prism Through which I may not put my hands to touch. [Outro] [Fade, End] {End} /image of a glass prism/ [Instrumental] [Outro] [Fade, End] {End}