|
by Charles Carreon
Dreams die hard,
clutching in the silent air,
mouths gaping, eyes that stare.
Dreams die hard,
limbs unravel in streaming smoke,
A strangled cry, a gasping choke,
The Good Physician suppresses hope.
Dreams die hard,
like water drying in the empty street,
the kiss of Wisdom is like summer heat,
The passing cars don't really care,
Like mahasiddhas who have cut their hair.
The mist of folly's lost in empty air.
Dreams die hard.
all the windows in the house break,
letting in the soft moonlight.
In the stone garden, the sound of water
falling out of sheer delight--
A cry of vultures and they're off in flight,
On craggy peaks now gazing down
A span of miles to the burning ground.
Return to Table of
Contents
|