When I am still and know my Being as God,
a wholly, holy hallelujah soars
from echelons beyond false self's facade,
and truest Self, sees new oceans lap far shores.
A Soul, is in relationship with higher
energies. A switchboard-like cross-wire,
between two worlds of Being, creates a span
from which exchange, might well occur. No man,
without evolving from the deadbrain murk
that taints, can taste the sweet ethereal cream,
of here comes paradise, except through Work.
Because the soul's asleep and locked in Dream,
we, up in the wheelhouse are weak of Will,
and doomed to trudge joyless roads, all up hill.