S.B.T. 283

how deep is the water

floating sensations
sealed in wax
like waning coincidence
like paper-rustling cats
a measure of moon pennies
in no cent bank
where we wade

in wait

love knowing bliss
some words will glow
wander about buoy chimes
the foghorn calls intent oh
Ananda sails so pretty
deepak raag in wind

gently exhales

slowly breathes in