All morning the sky was high and blue
Free as the taste of strawberries
The total in my notebook
Has amounted to a grand surrender
Of plans, of desire, of attachment
But here I am listening
To the breeze
It leaps without a care
I reach among the leaves
With a practiced devotion
For the thumb of foreigners
For love, in those familiar places
All evening the sky was tinged a yellowed-bronze
Free as the shimmering of the ocean
With cataracts for God’s lonely eyes
The total in my notebook
Still reads: “lyric of love in orange and black”
For the holy book always had
A white ambiguity to evolution’s template
And here I am watching
How whispering tattoos melt on tangerines
That smell like the loving life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem