All is sacred of the world
Yet inside many things are also frivilous
where's the path? Covered by the wind blown dust
And yet the world is sacred, but you didn't pick up the broom
So it was hidden under the dirt and grime
Now a shovel is needed
Dig your treasure
Blunt the shovel
The world is sacred
the way we absorb it might be iniquitous
interacting with the liveliest parts
ignoring the quieter ones
People are reckless
motorcycle brains
Running on lard carbs and sugar
Covered by wind blown debris
Yet the world they live in is sacred
A holy rolling stone we sit stationary on
yet the restless ones try to accompany the spin
The drive and the hype
The world's invisible balance
Is seen by the rare spiritual one
The vision is the treasure
The seeing is the value
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