Return



to the disembodied
painted faces of the inner air
the stone voice speaks
the whorls upon waking weep
the swamp of singing reeds
the growing world
turns to listen
time
delirious with eternity
sleeps on
there is no answer

in the winter sun
birds are thinking
they do not reply
I have returned
from a long journey
I have changed

the end and the beginning
stir and separate my thoughts
it is noon at my place on earth



asha

published in Sein und Werden