A tonsured garden, a deforested
place;
in the desert, an oasis still
tolerates the sun
heat is reining in every life,
there is no space for anything
other than sunshine.
Such kindness of light that burns
the impulse
of every kind is the cruelest
thing that needs to be deserted.
But every being there has
forgotten the art of leaving
it is looked upon as deceitful…
fearful of criticism, the
remaining ones are condemned to stay
to be charred to death with the
burden of white-hot values,
it is staging onlookers as actors
killing the garden’s character in
every minute of the day
that promises no evenings, no
nights.
The moon has left the place for
good,
there is no room for darkness.
The generosity of the sizzling sun
is slowly spreading
its wings all over…golden numbness
for sure
has ruined the balance of the Silver
Star, beyond cure.
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