We are the ethereus men

made of wind, full of air.

We follow one to another

with no bodies, no names, no lives, no faces.

We are and we are not

but we form together the crowd.

Who number our wishes?

Who set that counting out?

We fly through an aeternal space.

Flow, energy, drive, connection, confusion...

A distant light shines for us

A Divine eye, music of the spheres, celestial glare.

We chase them with anxiety and blindness and deafness and

eagerly we pay attention to that gaze, that sound, that act of attention,

that drop in our eyes and ears

that sweet tinkling,

that golden light of redemption!