A black fairy and a white one
took me to the mountain-top
first the black one took the lead
and I sought comfort with the white one
but finally 't was she who led us
up the last flight of the steps
and I myself came last of all.
Then we sat before the shrine
and I struggled with my visions
their endless painted screens
of memory, planning and desire.
Then my two companions vanished
I stepped outside, I was alone
and climbed down again in silence
all on my own, but whole, remade.
And a single bird sails in the air
a single bird calls in the woods
it's singleness of being now
singleness of purpose.
February 1975. Tokyo. Two Australian friends.
Geen opmerkingen:
Een reactie posten