I shed tears over a budding tulip
In the frozen spring
I relived the river
That vanished into shadows
I listened to the young intellectuals
I counted to 3600
And smiled

I walked among the thousands In white
Surrounding an edifice with love
And vitriol
The flags stained by sunshine
Propelled by living breath

Inebriated I sat on a hill
Inhaling the traffic of the city

The woman laughed
Before she fell in the sand

The beast pounded his chest
And waited for the fall

And the skinny band played
They were too young to dance

Sacred chants
The beating drums
A small sermon
The possibilities of culture
Arbitrary borders

I wore read and stepped into shoes
That felt like caverns
I closed my eyelids
And became the shaman
The words placed neatly
Across two borders
And three languages

Sacred texts whispered
From a balcony of understanding
Streaming into planets and fathoms

Sleepy eyes
Dawn vistas
Evening rain
The smoke of existence
Outbound. San Francisco.
Home