Caprice of survival, wrongs that make the right. No cause for seasons, If leaves had stayed white.
Flowers of late spring Feathers of early dusk Add words immortal Make colours from dust.
What the eyes can see In the wisdom of trees I must free the 'I', Let the circle complete.
Why does the Self Seek new beginnings? Search for Itself In changed becomings?
To the roots that keep the secrets Through the branches, the doors; To know if it was a cause or effect The Moon returns to the Source.
Nights to come Moons to rise, Yesterday alive In tomorrow’s eyes.
There’s no place home, No place heaven. Nothing to acquire, to own, No division of the Unseen.
Separate the Other, From all things Destiny, Find them together, The Self and the Seen.
Arrows of time turn the corner, Vanishing moons redrawn. Newly born, newly found, Newly forgotten, reformed.
Under a million stars, Where a billion rebellions start. A childhood home calls, To play again in its yard.
It’s neither for settling down Nor for taking root. It’s compass of a wanderer Follow the Personal Blue.
What the eyes can see, In the sky of memory. The undoing of change The remaking of destiny.
To forget, yet to remember Times to come, times gone by, Footprints of travelers forever Left under the Freedom Sky.
Life to life, death to death, Return to Terrains of Karma
Early springs to come, Mellow suns to set; Borrow light of dawn, Wake up leaves at rest.
Not from darkness, not from light; Terrains of Knowing behind closed eyes.
Source of the search; Witness of the Thinker
Source of becoming; Witness of its Being
Source of all cause; Witness of every Circle.
Written in an eternal ink Personal messages of the wind, Never returned unopened Never left unanswered.
Part of us that was once a star Points the way to return, Find the signs within the heart Follow the turns of the sun.