By perception
Date: 2007 Feb 21
Comment on this Work
[[2007.02.21.14.04.25105]]

Untitled

The streets are crowded
a buzzing melody in time.
The day has approached dearest,
my ash was sprinkled
the color of smoke,
and I can never return.
I see you from that little
star above I sit on
passing time,
My words are now lost memories,
My heart an erased fantasy,
The galaxies are moving
and it's such a better view
from up here twirling swirling,
eternal calm.  
If you miss me just look up
in the sky at that twinkling
star I sit upon as in a zen
meditation both awake and asleep.
Ah, but there are so many stars,
you say -- which one is you?
In matters of stardust they all
look the same, it's true. That's
the point of sprinkled ash the
color of smoke -- that's the lesson:
you return to nothing and become
void of identity, name and form.
I exist, I am not lifeless, I sparkle
and I shine.  The state I am in is
called Heaven on Earth -- יזל ( lamed zayin yud ).