move up through the brook

That spirit has forgotten how to be heavenly  for a love! Realistic is a human tested by passions, fulfilled are his desires, and  troubled he is by his grief!  But you’ve forgotten how to cry, laugh, enjoy, see, taste but you never seem bored to be lonely-do you still hear those pleasant bird singing, do you feel the violent flow that runs? You’ve forgotten how to hang in forests! But you’d spent a life in mists of silky paper which were thought to be a home for you and me!  This is not growing up, this is a pre-death decease path!  Raise, raise, and move up through the brook, go on my soul!