A Bowl…


Imagine the time the particle you are
returns where it came from!

The family darling comes home. Wine,
without being contained in cups,
is handed around.

A red glint appears in ta granite outcrop,
and suddenly the whole cliff turns to ruby.

At dawn I walked along with a monk
on his way to the monastery.

“We do the same work,”
I told him.  “We suffer the same.”

He gave me a bowl.
And I saw:

the soul has this shape.

Shams, you that teach us and actual sunlight,
help me now,

being in the middle of being partly in my self,
and partly outside.


Any thoughts?

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