I must lift up these feeble hands and strengthen knees. Wandering weakly across lands, vagabond me on a rough blanket of appearances. When the rug is pulled out, then where will I be? Enough! ''Lift up the seal. There is an edge somewhere. Seek what is real.'' Feel for the spot. Slowly, carefully . . . dimly the ground beneath one foot tremors . . . through the fog I see where to stand. ''Anchor new vision to old intention, right here. Fear not.'' Me? On this microscopic plot? O make my legs like trunks of mighty trees! Make my knees and ankles strong! Plant my feet firmly like roots resolve long, deep, deep! All right. Ready. Firmly, feet. Now hands, grip. Lift up a corner on eternity. Yank earth inside-out and free!