On the drive to the respite hotel,
the Goldberg Variations: a bridge to peace.
Sora bidding farewell to Bashō –
Sora leaning forward on his elbow.
*
In the moment of leaving,
when words set sail from paper . . .
soul clings
to one burning
as fire clings to a stick.
*
Even when the mind’s a sieve,
soul doesn’t grieve –
cannot believe
in scarcity. A mountain,
a river – fully this,
fully that.