We went into the deep mountains alone
Her gathered body luminous in absence ,
Clever words spoke invoking her presence
Shutting off being alone under the eyes.

We went into the deep mountains alone again
In a canvas of splashed rainbows, rain and wind
Oils and acrylics, poetry and images, fine music.
And we open the eye-bag in sleep’s early hour
Our eyes are vacant; our bags are full of wind
Our minds are occupied with  body-thoughts.

It is in the belly that it happened

Of cells that grew without permission

In a specious splurge of the body.

An inside has to go of a bag of beings.

I cannot seem to edit all that detail

From the night of life as it occurred

I cannot edit the colour of dreams

Nor change the depth of their field.

You and I were trying to edit detail

Emotion that cut thinking at its back.

The morning needlessly brought poetry.

The argument goes on in filled halls

Like a salivary thread smoothly flowing

From the spider-work in our corners

In argument we conquer the world in cup.

Our lake is now blooming heads like lotuses

The torsos they left behind recite rebel poetry.

The crowds fascinate us in their latent wisdom

Lately they have turned rebels for a cause

They are now our iconoclasts on the lake side.

We went about our poet’s business

In the wooded paths of history

Trying to tread softly on delicate hearts

In ancient history of poetry .

We  had  looked softly at our life's contours

Everything came home as if it was in our mother

Where it had happened, in our beginnings in her.