Friday, May 30, 2014
Krishna Das
Krishna Das
Now that I shall soon
be leaving,
I look at the world
with different eyes.
No longer the drawn out
sequence of things—
leaves of summer
cascading into fall,
snow blanketing the mountains
one by one,
infinite progression.
Rather the moment itself,
its intimate complexity.
Krishna Das
sends my blood
rushing to my heart,
my loins.
Is this not enough?
Dorothy Walters
May 30, 2014
(picture from internet)
