Pleasure is a freedom song
But it is not freedom
It is the blossoming of desires
But it is not their fruit

It is a depth calling unto a high
But it is not the deep, nor the high
It is the caged taking wing
But it is not space encompassed

In truth – pleasure is a song of freedom

And I fain would have you sing it
With fullness of heart
Yet I would not have you lose
Your hearts in the singing

Some of your youth
seek pleasure as if it were all
And they are judged and rebuked
I would not judge nor rebuke them

I would have them seek
For they shall find pleasure
But not her alone

Seven are her sisters
And the least of them
is more beautiful
than pleasure herself

some of your elders
remember pleasure with regret
like wrongs committed in drunkenness
but regret is the beclouding of the mind
and not it’s chastisement

they should remember their pleasures with gratitude
as they would the harvesting of a summer

yet if it comforts them to regret
let them be comforted in their regret

and there are those among you
who are neither old to remember
nor young to seek

and in their fear of seeking and remembering
they shun all pleasures
lest they neglect the spirit
or offend against it

but even in their foregoing
is their pleasure

shall the nightingale offend
the stillness of the night
or the firefly the stars

and shall your flame or your smoke
burden the wind

oftentimes in denying yourself pleasure
you do but store the desire
in the recess of your being

it is also the pleasure of the flower
to yield it’s honey to the bee
for to the bee
a flower is a fountain of life
and to the flower
a bee is a messenger of love
as to both the bee and the flower
the giving and receiving of pleasure
is a need and an ecstasy

and your body is the harp of your soul
it is yours to bring forth sweet music from it
or confused sounds