Classic Poem

Today I'm inside the fog,
but still at dawn that light
of glistening worlds
has suddenly broken through.

Flowering golden he dwells
in a fragrant land,
all well in his aloneness
on the tip of the ray.

We cannot see our path,
we heave cold sighs.
Hope turns into a bird
and life sinks in the dawning gray.

Nature's cloud descends,
spreading form and color.
The Lord's illusions come
with the magic of what's-not-clear.

Seeing in the dawn is
remembering separation.
In the ray's threads the cloud,
creation on a loom of shadows.

Little bird who lives in the cloud
sang a pleasing song and sought the Lord
in the sweet shadows of
illusion's forest.

Gold the cloud of joy and grief;
enlisting all the stars, Lord,
you wrapped this heavy world
in a net.

Dwelling in the world —
mixed milk and water —
heavenly geese discriminate
and drink the buttermilk.

With breast and womb of stone
the dawn put out its flowers;
we have the power to pluck
and touch and smell.

In the clarity of our eyes
clouded over blind,
Krishna with a magic spell
spread out the fog.

Inside the cloud I saw
lines of golden threads.
I pluck the foggy flowers and offer
pictures to the Lord.

Varieties of the Infinite
like love . . . . .
A cloud bird he made
my soul . . . .

Sweet Krishna in the dawn
in the web of illusion.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The ray came with the compassion
of water from the sea,
into the foggy wood's enchantment
brought tenderness.

Shadow sweeter than seeing,
glimpse better than perception;
into the waking eye
the dream flickering.

On earth better than in heaven
the sweetness of the fog —
love's shadows you have cast, Lord,
here and there.

I found the black thirst,
the magic of this search;
and within the pain of not-having
a thousand tender blessings.

Sweet forest shadows of
imaginings, imagination.
Tell me, with what kind of love,
Lord, do you half-hide yourself?

Close by and without tears
. . . . . . . . . . they look,
like me they fill their eyes
with daybreak's common sense.

In mortality's darkness
the cup of nectar.