Stony Brook runs down the spine of the Sierra Nevadas in the Summertime
There went I wading with I Am He in ecstatic waters up to my knees
For in that brook there darted bliss, disguised as rainbow scalyness
I armed my rod with a slippery line tipped with a fly my Brother tied
And danced it on waters that run to the sea and return to the mountains eternally
I dreamed on clouds and my fondest wish
Was not to inconvenience the slightest fish
My other Brother quoth "Brother of Mine, what do you seek in this Brook of Time?"
And I answered him "Brother, a Man can be, exactly whatever he wants to be, so long as he wants it desireless-ly
For I am a fisher who wades in bliss and I don't desire to catch a fish"
And then just then, a bolt from space-time, of course, something struck my running line
A lifetronic jolt, a creature born free, a rainbow arrow of ecstasy
And I learned again what we often miss, you do your best fishing when you don't want to catch fish