darkness

john coltrane blaring
away his trumpet
perhaps that is it.
perhaps that is what dissolves
the world into this lightning blindness.
punctured soul of the ages
oozing out as the nauseous
intoxication that binds us.

the darkness of the city is likewise
being eaten up by the worms,
the glow worms.
and i am that
one tree
on top of that distant hill
that stands alone alit
with the setting sun's last rays.
the loved one.

the monkey sitting between us
and the blinding light,
walks away.
just then you close your eyes
to leave behind those
dark lines, those
that encircle the
whole stupa and dim out
the oil lamps burning
in silent penance.
those lines,
closing in,
open up
the whole world
for me to drink in.