We die to the living,
and live with the dead,
and much more is understood
than can be said.
So we, ensouled as lumps of clay,
Spirits enfleshed for now, today,
Embracing every brief delight
Releasing, then, into the night,
Dance, we dance, through all the strife
That keeps our souls apart,
We mend within the dance of life
These holes within our heart.