Fawnstep dawns.
The dirt of desire
is sitting on the stem of grass,
and raises life-giving green.
The picture of dreams
engraved on stone
does not forget.
Don’t bury the stone,
Clean, polish it.
Its light’s getting
stronger and stronger.
The stone sound of my jasper
keeps me alive and raises me.
I pick the fallen specks of dust in a bunch.
The universe is sitting on its soft nothing.
The brown vision of the nothing
is only a sweet dream today.
The glittering blade of everything
lures out a bud.
Look at its lusty blue.
The universe is in it.
Glittering dew is sitting on it.
tomorrow it’s already a leaf.
The silver of dreams
brings the clink of gold.
Dear soul,
caress my slumber.
Bring
the flight of the bird,
the music of the trees,
the sweet silence
of becoming clean
to my dream.
Life is a sigh.
Resignation is a sigh.
A tiny no-good thing is a sigh.
…
“Everything is sitting
on the branch of nothing.”