In a Kryptonese Temple Garden

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Though not intended as a song, this poem may actually be sung to the melody of "Ghost Riders in the Sky".


Rao is the source of all, whence all existence flows.

Like water, of which all is made, as every child knows;

for Thal-Es taught us all a truth that no one can resist,

the underlying unity of all things that exist.

Deep in the mind of Rao we are nothing but a dream.

All is nought but image, though solid it may seem.

The ultimate reality of things we cannot apprehend;

we gaze at it across a rift we cannot hope to mend.

Responding to our deepest need, the mighty godhead deigns

to let us build an empty place where sacred silence reigns.

Like a mathematicians limit, it lets us shrink the gap

and see the wisdom laid out like directions on a map.

Abstracted from a sacred grove and from its holy spring

each temple of the Kryptonese lies built within a ring

of stony gates in through which every person sees

a geometric weaving of bare and silent trees.

Their trunks are carved from granite and their branches made of steel,

frozen in Platonic Form to show sublime ideal.

And from a white-stone spring you see, running cold and clear,

water in a trickle that shows the only movement here.

The water flows and swirls in a way that you will find

much like the stream of consciousness that flows through your own mind.

Eternally unchanging, it partakes of the Ideal,

but also fluid and moving, it touches all that's Real.

The silence is suggestive and it hints that you will find

the answers that you're seeking in the core of your own mind.

Just shut out all distractions; forget all that you know

and in that mental darkness a gentle light may glow.


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