Nearby you see him in air
cavorting in twistings of light
that part of him that you share
...
No longer is there a train
that goes steaming by
and yet I still see the red coals glowing
against the morning sky.
...
I would turn the prow
to where it found the wind
rushing to fill the sails
with a shudder beneath my feet
...
Flower of Paradise
filled with nectars
so out of place here
on the rough
...
In the beginning was the word...
Oṃ śānti śānti śānti
...