Giggling brittle glass pieces
Pieces that cant pierce
Piercing that will yield nothing
Nothing that was many things
Everything that's transient
Transience that's painful
Pain that heals
Healing that meets
Meets. Meets all my expectations.
I thought that my voyage had come to its end
at the last limit of my power,-
that the path before me was closed,
that provisions were exhausted and
the time had come to take shelter in silent obscurity.
But I find that thy will knows no end in me.
And when old words die out on the tongue,
new melodies break forth from the heart;
and where the old tracks are lost,
a new country is revealed with its wonders.
Just to kiss her
Just to miss her
Just to hold her tight
Honey, I thought
You were special
You played me well.
Now I hear myself say
You aren't after all-
Oh no, you aren't so
Special after all.
Like the ever circulating
Blood in the Veins
Like the ever present
Nothingness of space
Like the last harmony
Of every persistent melody
My memory, My heart,
My Soul, My body,
Finds that pulsating
Rhythm with the Universe.
I don’t even know what songs would please you. I have given up trying to recognize you in the surging wave of the next moment. All the immense images in me – the deeply felt
faraway landscape, cities, towers, bridges, unsuspected turns in the path, and those powerful lands that were once pulsing with the life of the gods – all rise within me to mean you, who forever elude me.
You who are all the gardens
I have ever gazed at. An open window in a country house –
and you almost stepped out to meet me. Streets that I chanced upon – you had just walked down them and vanished. And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors were still dizzy with your presence and, startled, gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows? Perhaps the same bird
echoed through both of us yesterday, separate, in the evening . . .