#4 from clouds, leaves, waves. 1987 Zuni / Goya
...surging upward
breaking the surface
the prize grasped in his teeth!
Lights shine, mandala spins
all into one
a crystal light
flashes!
“This is the Truth!”
Coming from the darkness
still quite dim
we mutter, no--
stand up and shout,
this is it!
this Truth!
...naked, looking down at
tatters
the wind, the burning bush in
swirls of stripes,
a flashing flag signals, Here!
From despair, to a recognition of a cycle which seems to contain some truth in between, or in the juxtaposition of ideas.
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