Three verses for Sunday
The lamp in the fog
Unfolding origami of the artefact, tetrahedral light lines splay
into book-time, pages of leafy softness, moss rich ghosts
are soupy and textureless in this ageless evening
where words fall like untroubled children’s blond dreams.
This is the essence on the mind-skin
steam-enterer, breath of absent stars
liminal and unclothed we touch
Mortal’s shucked husk floats on the air.
The value of sleep
Exuding various hues of fragranced inks
the garden has decided to draw bodhi trees
there are mind-seeded white entities
the shape of the inside of a vessel.
Veronica Aldous 2016 All Rights Reserved