while all clinging dies.

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you made out of this garden 

a mirror-image of heaven

gazing at your face

every reason fading between us


here it is, a soulful peace

then there are the tears that would never leave 

the mornings when the sun of forgiving was seen


I saw dying when we went fruit-picking

where we dropped all our worldly clinging


the mist falls on me now

I’m in a river where love sounds 


do you cry, too, sometimes

when a fractal of my presence lies

next to you while all clinging dies

going with grace in an inscrutable world.

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