Poetry

Overly possessing the karma, 
you sail in meditation. 
Does creation tag along 
the destruction of self? 


The chain persists. You leave 
the theater. The ancient 
voice gives the soft resoundings. 


Something was always left 
to say. The neophyte will 
not speak. The arms 
were overreaching. 


Take hold of the window. 
Some light will have deep 
penetration. Edge was very 
sharp. Pack up your belongings.