Come wrap your hand in mine, this daisy-chain
we weave, a million hands and covered bones
enfolded, twined, all joined bodies and brains,
so tightly knit we’ll never be alone.
Can you not feel our unity, so deep
beyond the skins, a network seething with
all connection, the wholeness touched in sleep?
Or would you say, “It’s just the stuff of myth?”
It’s fools who search for oneness in a world
of separate things, and surely it’s not much
other than veils, and tricks, and flags unfurled;
in human life there’s no deep truth to touch…
And yet if we’re all lost, and cannot see,
how different, in the end, can we all be?
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