“Let our time be filled with a merry song” for there is always a fingertip  to press the No button  and end my search for you,  to halt poetry and the mad rush of words, to stop the traffic of timelines and roll back years, freely,  to the point where you and I  were unknown particles of dust  at different ...

Lights, always, tell me of life’s mirage nature, and clinging minds that only gather pleasure-flowers. The dependent arising of red and blue and blue and red teach me of cyclical truths of attachment and detachment; tides and foams, music and silence and the little smiles of water constitute the ebb and flow of my journey, ata lo dahama   ...