All this they do not see.
Butterflies on a mountain path
Sun sinking behind the swollen river
The city at night, blinking in solitude
A house heavy with books and silence
The late monsoon rain
-
Glowing spheres
Warm orange, red, yellow and green
Gently floating, merging, parting
Some near, some far
Against a backdrop of white eternity.
All this they see.
-
We walk the Earth a little time
Invent distractions for our minds,
The Angels watch me and I seek
A little truth before I sleep.