will the gust of snowflakes in the wavering sun
will the gust of snowflakes in the wavering sun
look like the pink of cherry flowers?
if Spring were never to again come.
would heart know all vernal solace,
in the warm, light-footed dance of bonfire?
suppose the mountain is polluted by snake's adder.
stinking of rotting flesh.
while all incense-borne trees were a-fallen,
and rivers in oozing tears of dark oil run
that vision of final destination
could we ever hope to surmount?
with the nimmed perfume and robbed scent,
from lightning-bonding of profane molecules,
which forms the ancients did not understand?
the iron vessel had been sent by inferno
born of earthly grain mills
to take down Princess Kaguya's eternal lost home
do moon rabbits and their labour-song get stranded
in that lonely giant leap of eternal man?
he did not hear sound of mochi-pounding, Armstrong
he wore a space-helmet, that looked like
out-bulged eye of a discounted dead fish
there is no air for it outside...
back in earth, the sallow sun is forever ill-sunken
on the horizon, and never is the returning grey dawn;
and when nightly my visions,
sitting on the flames of Nandaka---somersaulting like a monkey
in sunyata---I sat not on black fires of aether
and smelt no unearthly scent...nor a sentiment
more prolonging than warmth of a beautiful hand
in the vacuum of space I could not breathe
nor could Nandaka's earthly flame burn
so I put down the sword sheathed in Ignorance
and allowed my Self to expand to infinite-fold
let futures be bygones, and past be oblivion
a man taking up the shape of Cosmos
O, I am entire
in blindness, and swallowing down
my desires caused me not even cold tears
and I disentangled my former being
to the space-time totality of ephemeral foam before you
embrace in the void, all your feeling of space's overflowing atoms,
and time's abyssal gazes...
( to your way)
I am an adder-doused lotus petal
the size of cosmos-river
and without memories of my own scent
flowing down a bed of emptiness
greater than what I can know
to a fate unknown as well
seek not light from me, men
and demand from me no profile of heavenly paradise
I am a rushing river full of my own pinkless fallenness
drunken, joy-debauched, righteous in being meaningless and self-induced
towards that farthest place---the final cliff of the world, yon I ran
and yet still further! further more I shall go on,
neither this, here, happiness nor sorrow, yonder I go!
nor this and that shore, beyond---
beyond even all the Full-Stop visions' End!
mark of "!" , not at even this very moment I stayed for you
I am the river that shall never return....
I am the End that shall never return...
I am the history of life that will never in myself return...