No things but from ideas of the things
No brain but the thinking that sustains it
No feeling that doesn't prove we're dreaming
No will that isn't his
No island that doesn't see us coming
No sea-air we haven't breathed before
So why did we feel abandoned
When the ferry dropped us on the shore
We'd heard there was still a forest
With its original birds and trees
A thousand different climates
In valleys unexplored
A lake of burning stars
Where the gods could be implored
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