Who knows which is the fallen flower
Whose sobbing memories make you so restless
Ask me not, friend
I too weep over broken hearts
So your emotions are aroused
Sheets of water have spread
From a handful of tears
Drown yourself! Rain!
As a traveller from a weary land
Waiting in the antechamber of your sanctuary
Surrounded by familiar ghosts
A vision arises
It is not the spirit of the future that enters me
My heart is already well acquainted with that descent
It is he the rising power that whispers from the past
" Treasure is strewn in all directions of time and space from the omphalus "
My soul vibrates with winged denizens of spirit
The oracle offers me here in her outer court
Well past the zenith
Sends its fire over Parnassus
In a flash the serpent leaps
A reversed lightning bolt from earth to heaven
Into the chasm of Delphi
There are times
On the inner journey
When the winds of Samsara blow the veils of Maya
And curtain the horizon
The path ahead shrinks down to three visible steps
Then one
Which must be taken nonetheless
...and the next
Until the soul's foot will no longer lift
To the command of spirit
What remains is the will to stand
A persistent drum
A tawny flame
That will not be put out
A stubborn stone
Of waiting ....
Demanding
Life
