I ordered this, clean wood box
Square as a chair and almost too heavy to lift.
I would say it was the coffin of a midget
Or a square baby
Were there not such a din in it.

The box is locked, it is dangerous.
I have to live with it overnight
And I can’t keep away from it.
There are no windows, so I can’t see what is in there.
There is only a little grid, no exit.

I put my eye to the grid.
It is dark, dark,
With the swarmy feeling of African hands
Minute and shrunk for export,
Black on black, angrily clambering.

How can I let them out?
It is the noise that appalls me most of all,
The unintelligible syllables.
It is like a Roman mob,
Small, taken one by one, but my god, together!

I lay my ear to furious Latin.
I am not a Caesar.
I have simply ordered a box of maniacs.
They can be sent back.
They can die, I need feed them nothing, I am the owner.

I wonder how hungry they are.
I wonder if they would forget me
If I just undid the locks and stood back and turned into a tree.
There is the laburnum, its blond colonnades,
And the petticoats of the cherry.

They might ignore me immediately
In my moon suit and funeral veil.
I am no source of honey
So why should they turn on me?
Tomorrow I will be sweet God, I will set them free.

The box is only temporary.

Started a search to no avail
A light that shines behind the veil trying to find it
And all around us everywhere is all that we could ever share
If only we could see it
Believe there's truth that's beyond me
Life ever changing weaving destiny
(And) it feels like I'm flying above you
Dream that I'm dying to find the truth
Seems like your trying to bring me down
Back down to earth back down to earth
Layers of dust and yesterdays
Shadows fading in the haze of what I couldn't say
And though I said my hands were tied
Times have changed and now I find I'm free for the first time
Feel so close to everything now
Strange how life makes sense in time now