They waited, and waited, and she did not return. (Love you sang the psychonaut a million dreams away.) Rang for her, laid out wreaths of fresh chrysanthemum and hibiscus, brought to her the food they thought she liked in little steel trays, and still there was no trace upon the oscilloscope screens. What to do? (Love you sang the psychonaut a million dreams away.) Her jumpsuit in a pile, left where she stood under the floodlights, soon encased in glass, some velvet rope, a plaque. (Love you sang the psychonaut a million dreams away.) Some long lines formed to take a picture or perhaps receive a little of her blessings, the campus flooded with tourists in coloured hats and tiny disposable Kodaks, for electronics ceased to function around the pile. (Love you sang the psychonaut a million dreams away.) Her daughter read out a poem of her life, it was a little villanelle in a manner she would have easily approved, and her husband shed tears and placed them in a vial and the vial was left hanging from a bit of a string tied to the plaque, and all her friends gathered around to speak into the air and tell the space where she once was what an amazing psychonaut she'd been. (Love you sang the psychonaut a million dreams away.) What immense unbound worlds she must now walk in, what wonders were she making of our minds? Where the weft of the world's meaning ran like a shining belt around the minds, run now her footsteps, runs now her galloping heart? (Love you sings the psychonaut a million dreams away.) They'll keep this up until forever, for, as a people, they had infinite room in the collective heart for the departed. Through their waiting, understanding bloomed.