When the world is scarlet
And the entire universe has had its moment,
When at rest are the rivers
With no sound nor wind to disturb tranquillity;
I in my quiet garret
Watch the curtain
Flutter and twitch
Some cloth butterfly
Impossible to understand.
With these thoughts
Drowsy comes a murky carelessness,
This ashen skin
Calls the challenge of thoughtfulness;
I in my quiet garret
Book open unread
A peace undreamt
Eyes closed unseeing.
With glad gentle sighs
I feel the cog and fulcrum shudder,
With calculated precision
The percussion of bells rings out loud;
I in my quiet garret
Sip tea without haste
Twilight chimes
Free but restrained.
Wanton let me go
To immaculate non corporeal,
Secret places for me
Walking endless un-walked paths;
I in my quiet garret
Shift my un-ease
Unfolding my arms
Re-crossing my legs
In the docile dreary dusk.
