This is where God breathes! Here is

the mountain wellhead that cannot believe

our bodies are drenched in darkness.

Drops of water burning bright like verses from holy

books.

Here my heart smiles at

Goethe’s heart, like a sun at a sun when they meet

in the precipices of the universe.

I was born to experience motion, to undulate like the sea

in a dream, to absorb everything with my soul. What do I know of the death

of the body. What of Swiss wellheads. What of this village

Lauterbrunen. What of nude virgins. What of war. But my

feeling I know. It keeps up stalks at the edge of a cliff.

I step into the shade of a mountain wellhead

that told me how after death all family relations are severed.

Here love is simple, for there is no single universe. Many

universes are jolted into motion. Rooms. The universes are rooms! Vanity is

shut up in the rooms. And I beneath the waterfall of the worlds.

Dead hands are no longer

dead here. Hands grow out of the water, the blue

in the sky. Sleep. Drift. Do not count the drops.

The water is too good.

Admiral Mahic