They did not disappear. We each take a piece Through the eye and through the ear. It's loud inside us, in there, and when we speak In the outside world We have to hope that some of that sound Does not come out, that an arm Not reach out In place of the tongue. The wise have no mind of their own, finding it in the minds of ordinary people. They're good to good people and they're good to bad people.
Power is goodness.
They trust people of good faith and they trust people of bad faith. Power is trust. Ordinary people look after them. Wise souls are children. I was reading recently about something called intentional communities the other day, and as I read, I realized that there was quite a bit of overlap between the idea of intentional community and the older idea of a commune.