The ground is turning green. The king’s drum begins. Light arrives. Get up.
Commentaries on the heart have come in seven volumes. A love-messenger runs with his head down
like an ink pen giving a dark sweetness to the page.
The pure spirits gather again, the ones we thought were dead. Planets go anywhere they want. Venus sways drunkenly over to the North Star. The moon holds onto Leo.
I hope everything is all right.
The host who has no self has come.
Now it is our turn to look into those eyes.
A child is still a child even after he has learned the alphabet. Joy reaches into the mountains. Solomon holds out a morning cup. Welcome. Sit down in this dazzling pavilion. Be silent, and let the poet sing the delight that never ends.