The Ghost Song

Awake.
 Shake dreams for your hair
 My pretty child, my sweet one.
 Choose the day
 And choose the sign of your day,
 The day's divinity.
 First thing you see.
 A vast radiant beach
 And a cool jeweled moon.
 Couples naked race down
 By its quiet side,
 And we laugh like
 Soft mad children
 Smug in the wooly
 Cotton brains of infancy.
 The music and voices
 Are all around us.
 Choose they croon
 The ancient ones,
 The time has come again.
 Choose now they croon
 Beneath the moon
 Beside an ancient lake.
 Enter again the sweet forest.
 Enter the hot dream
 Come with us.
 Everything is broken up
 And dances.
 Indians scattered on
 Dawn's highway bleeding,
 Ghosts crowd the young child's
 Fragile egg-shell mind.