If you ever travel under rain dotted blue
stop at the ten mile haat.

Sellers there are not smart
buyers don't ever bargain
strange is their dealing art
both parties feel having gained.

Small is all they have
except the smiles on the face
the little the garden has saved
is sold to fetch happiness.

There's no haggling on price
never mind if you don't buy
no price is needed to be nice
peace is just an easy try.

Small men with not much of need
who easily make you their part
an island that lies far from greed
enchants you wins your heart.

And it's not a story that I make
I happen to be there once a while
return with a bag of big take
from the village haat at ten mile.

the wet summer
Crowns the head of a psalm-
    Unlacing it's proverbial season
The sun adjusts it's pilgrimage
    Making the images of the world:

    From green to yellow to orange
In a foliage of wind and water and ice
    The season begins
On the five senses;
What I see is what I feel
And the thoughts begin a momentum,
   Impending dazzlement
In the erosions of trees,
  Sculpting winds
Falling to the untouchable clarity,
    The soul and earth join,
These endless things
   At the cusp of change
With that familiar feeling.