Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Cuckoo {or 'Dordogne Tonglen Song'}

for half a breath
the whisper-thin world
seemed real.

a cuckoo called in the forest
and the stars slowly set
above the hill.

but mist rose up
between a thousand grasses
and took it back again,

dissolved it into prayer,
the living heart
that holds all momentary things inside.

we’re all alone with everyone
and every thing that digs
and swims and flies.

the breath turns endlessly.
a thousand grasses hand it on
to every mist soaked life.

it’s calling out across the valley,
across the slowly turning sky


No comments:

Post a Comment