I'll meet the flowers where they hold me,
As they love the earth.
We'll be bold together, but relatively, my colours, spare.
Fortunes will remain, but as silent as the wills of old, unopened books.
And Still, I'll sneak into every season.
My memory, your memory.
Then their memory, no memory.
Snowflake,
Raindrop,
Riverock,
Cow's cough.
Into every atom of action, each ruby of sin,
Motivating all kinds of greed, and greeting love.
Like the history of smoke I was before my birth.
Free in everything, without intention,
As calm and gone as our unknown God.

No comments:
Post a Comment