In the prajna of the Dark Age

I remember your hands,

Your lips like marijuana

& hair like feedback.


Less you forget what your eyes saw

Everything appears

Amid invasions & maternity

& the swift destruction of gangs

Their handsigns & colors

Clothed in flesh,


In a singular love & understanding

That ascends from the earth

As the sun rolls on

Through the Dark Age.


You journey to me & where do I journey?

I journey & journey continually,

Like a ghost leaving his cigarette

Burning in the torchlight of prajna.


1 July 1996


Spoken word version from Unspoken Words.

Copyright © 1998 by Jim Cohn.

Text from The Dance Of Yellow Lightning Over The Ridge (Writers & Books Publications).

Copyright © 1998 by Jim Cohn.