Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Lined with Snow

*** Lined with Snow ***
What the future holds
We cannot know
Its inner folds
Are lined with snow.

The thaw’s years off
From now and then
The Lord God coughs
Upon our Zen.

We may laugh or cry
At turns of fate
Ask heaven why
Such times await.

We may forsake our soul
In rash pursuit of sense
Forget it makes us whole
In desire to condense.

But in the end so bitter sweet we must
Accept the dichotomies of rain –
Its peaceful fall and violent gust
Its pounding, dripping on the pane.
I love you Mali, with all my heart.

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You've found your way inside my head and now there's no way out!