Archive

Coffee Island

Where lovely things mix and match And greenery fills the walls Where all the birds come to bathe And drink when they are parched.

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A hill at the bottom of the sky.

You gave yourself to the god who comes, The liberator of the loud shout, While I fell into a trance, Blood on my lips, And stumbled into a temple on top Of a hill at the bottom of the sky.

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Osteria

Hence is it that a city street Can deepest thought impart, For all its people, high and low, Are kindred to my heart;

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Lotus

And so, ending here my journey, as the hummingbird put a drop of nectar In the Lotus Flower of my heart

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The Bull

Unlike the cows he lives alone, nozzles the sweet grass gingerly to pass the time away

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