” …all of the past and all of the future, …meet and forever meet, at one single point, now.”

The Dancing Wu Li Masters, Gary Zukav (173)

A terrace of shiuli die at the feet, cajoling a scent out of the remorse

a rainbow at your navel waits to be navigated through the lens that falsifies distance, giving out little truths in spurts, imagining the continuum dissecting your delta of dreams: an uproar later there will be blinding light, a shift of horizons, cries so tender as

A terrace of shiuli dying at the feet, cajoling a scent out of the remorse

waddling through the benificient waters that break open life, you will become; from a transient banal staccato of pain will flow the nuggets of life here in the now as your eyes make meaning, your mouth echoing your past, your fingers and toes graspig and letting go

A terrace of shiuli that had died at the feet, no longer cajoling a scent out of the remorse

* shiuli: a flower