When worry has shown way out of mazes in your brain,
The stage name trips over a dog, tumbles down a drain,
Dire warnings are in the recycling bin with plastic bags.

When habits of deference are sliced like smoked salmon,
And the cream cheese of innocence is silently spread,
Over the lacy communion wafer waiting to be devoured,

Then a bus named Fecundity flies into the bay with copters
Of amicable doctors who remove the cargo from your heart
Until you float and bob amidst the escalation of the waves

Where the sea unfolds the goodness of salt and Spirit leads
You underwater chambers full of beds to one slumber-headed
Soul, who once awakened, expresses how to feel the heat.