when the good eyes of heaven see outside from the hairs of our head then the lifelong strands of tears from our streams cry out from the places the funnels into each other from top to bottom. where the ground rises or falls into nothing where life tries to lift from the center of this earth that holds all the waters to our tears that break open the tier ducts of rain so the that any comet may be a holy sign of hale that comes forth to be announced as a family, a branch of Buddha's tree that has been lost for a time that searched for this rain and for the times that may be given to you who holds the fifth element of My breath can never forget or hold on to anytime that fades away in the sun where Truth had led Me to you My Buddha who now holds on to My duck that cries out the waters of time for the eyes to swallow the pains that no one will ever know except on rainy days where i peep in on my self from time to time to see Me growing up well inside your forbidden city. when i feel gloomy i let it rain in my eyes so that i can see past my hair in the future rains and then seperate them in the days that were only sunny or in the days of two showers of rain in one season that had two stones in the mid heavens that fell into the way side where God awaits hidden in His cave for the light of day to be absorb in the hidden darkness preserved in a cave where i grew up into the smoke that rises up into heaven and then pours out from the gloom of heaven looks down upon this new magical city that had gone away but still rises up out of the heavens below for Buddha and Buddha's creation of rain, land, and wisdom to be lifted up into a pivoting horizon point that lifts the sky for the rains to cry out all day or to go away back into its cave from whence the darkness of my mother's shame fades away in the lasting light of days that were getting closer and closer for the skies to swell and burst every day to see my own kind, my own people, and my own heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment