The Scent of Jasmine
a Contrapuntal
in India I found if nothing else
cowbell clangor persists life remains peculiar
it will haunt you in the end a life
clanking with joy is laid bare
dizzy with morning all roads lead
jasmine-scented to where we are going
beyond the gate in the midst of birth and
in his tattered turban and lungi death
the watcher stands guard as we are dismantled
translucent as hunger at last we give in to the pull
and the thirst that gathers the love
in the alabaster eye of this great dark storm
Comments