as my fingers dance across the drum,
and my beliefs flee in the patter,
I will seek to join the music,
until at last, I hear a solitary note,
a steady note —
so beautiful,
and I will swirl to this melody,
in motionless rapture
for there is nowhere to go,
and there is nothing to know —
there is only here
in this eternal embrace.
- by Lyman Ditson