Existence in Cosmos

Void circles in circles,

‎in the cosmos’ mysteries,

‎he finds no place—

‎and repudiates, repudiates

‎the melodies of thoughtless minds,

‎that lulled millions for centuries.

‎

‎Hands cannot smell death

‎Ears cannot see

‎Rays drop

‎through the holes in leaves.

‎

‎No ground of water,

‎no thought of light,

‎Nobody comes, nobody goes

‎Only kiln-smoke rises,

‎and drinks the clouds

‎

‎no rain,

‎no water,

‎only drought