The dancers are all gone under the hill.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1MXErkDBT18pVhKicdqsj7?si=08b93a4bffaf4cc2

O dark dark dark. They all go into the dark…

The vacant interstellar spaces, the vacant into the vacant, The captains, merchant bankers, eminent men of letters, The generous patrons of art, the statesmen and the rulers, Distinguished civil servants, chairmen of many committees, Industrial lords and petty contractors, all go into the dark, And dark the Sun and Moon, and the Almanach de Gotha And the Stock Exchange Gazette, the Directory of Directors, And cold the sense and lost the motive of action. And we all go with them, into the silent funeral, Nobody's funeral, for there is no one to bury.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0JUYKhfJ9qhWAgzSvbj2dh?si=b136db66166b4488

I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you Which shall be the darkness of God. As, in a theatre, The lights are extinguished, for the scene to be changed With a hollow rumble of wings, with a movement of darkness on darkness, And we know that the hills and the trees, the distant panorama And the bold imposing facade are all being rolled away —

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1AKSnOrk2CiCwUv8mhfP0Z?si=24a8aba8bdc44920

Or as, when an underground train, in the tube, stops too long between stations And the conversation rises and slowly fades into silence And you see behind every face the mental emptiness deepen **Leaving only the growing terror of nothing to think about; Or when, under ether, the mind is conscious but conscious of nothing-

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7abJ2fsr4B9rUeT1TM3Yjr?si=1056e8e1451a413b

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love, For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0lv3C64rqtsWFrz7GJcVLX?si=f555f301100a475b

Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning. The wild thyme unseen and the wild strawberry,

The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony Of death and birth.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6Vq5DNk0uPxA7FJYGWgC5V?si=c2e9f43ee09f47e6

You say I am repeating Something I have said before. I shall say it again. Shall I say it again? In order to arrive there, To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not, You must go by a way wherein there is no ecstacy. In order to arrive at what you do not know You must go by a way which is the way of ignorance. In order to possess what you do not possess You must go by the way of dispossession. In order to arrive at what you are not You must go through the way in which you are not. And what you do not know is the only thing you know And what you own is what you do not own And where you are is where you are not.