The sun--fevered, falling
'hectic red' -- coughs a moon out. Viral day mews with pain.
An across is first a through then beyond... then gone.
A Plato- evening revives a Socratic day in whispered dialogues.
Creation is dia and dual
itself creates itself, its other self... self's other 'it'...
a mirror transparent, though. Dia is Aristotle—spermed light-headed morn - not
far, nor beyond and ever to come.
The slash in V/s is all mercury—plated on TRANS on TRANS
parence or cendence, so what?
The path of Jatakas is via the caves.
The way of Bodhisattva is a swaying between
this and this
that and That Thou Art...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it is a fusion of complete scholarship and creative instinct..a metaphorical venture...enjoyed reading it...your lines are as magnanimous as this creation of God