On which end of the Silver Cord am I the pet?
And which end does the owner command some control?
Between owner and thing owned, which damned one am I?
Only when I am traveling far past the sky
Do I recall most lucidly what is my goal.
As I come wide awake here, I’m doomed to forget.
If I am not this body, am I then a probe
Self-controlled most remotely by some higher me?
People say they’re connected – the selves at each end.
The role each plays, this body cannot comprehend.
On this end I am blinded, but there I can see
How the soul makes a trap of the prefrontal lobe.
We all leave, as we slumber, the body at rest
And go wandering thither to spirit’s content.
Some will visit a hot star, examine it well,
Then, upon their awaking, think they’ve been to hell.
We’re connected to God Source. What we represent
Is the hope of creation. We truly are blessed.