In suddenness, I will
write a poem for you.
You had stopped at the
outset, like a black moon
opening up perfervidly.
Remote from the oneness
of life, a flame leapt up
to ignite the process of birth―
without perceiving.
Come let's meet at the
navel of the destiny.
I had the penchant of
burning myself.
You, who would never be
visible, I will dust all the mirrors
to find out.
Waiting for the festival to begin.
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 8:04 PM UTC
In suddenness, I will
write a poem for you.
You had stopped at the
outset, like a black moon
opening up perfervidly.
Remote from the oneness
of life, a flame leapt up
to ignite the process of birth―
without perceiving.
Come let's meet at the
navel of the destiny.
I had the penchant of
burning myself.
You, who would never be
visible, I will dust all the mirrors
to find out.
Waiting for the festival to begin.