On a winter noontide
A lost poet adulates a discreet muse,
Memories of a foggy romance
Closed in a bottle of perfume
...
Butterflies leave their artful vitrail coat
Wherever they filmy touched,
The ivory beach inhales the last warmth
And percolates into the onyx late sunset,
...
Lips burning again to speak,
Words fervently tossing,
Fingers attempting to sculpt
Life's wisdom into daily clay.
...
A world of division and one of bliss
Concurrently flower to be experienced,
By an awareness that contains
All names and forms.
...
It was morning!
Words were arching their lids,
Absorbing soft light into their airy pores,
Set to make their appearance
...
Laughter and thunder strike spontaneously,
Like thought and action springing from an unpredictable void,
Each thing is a phenomenal experience,
A face painted on faceless sand.
...
That which taught birds to sing, to fly
And humanity to paint, to feel,
That which is in the newly grown grass, lilies and the Sun
...
A ceremony of lights is set up, at sunset
The chandeliers of our souls flaming
In a temple of candles and roses,
Opening again that book without characters
...
I play for you delightful melodies of harp,
On the edge of a cliff,
As the stars are leaking from their beds
From the sky, onto the long palm leafs
...
Leave those circles of thoughts
Making you dizzy,
Enter a city with no traffic,
No alleys or animated bodies,
...