The White Cliffs Of Nirvana

 

Sometimes you have a dream

That’s too heavy & it throws you

Away a little at a time.

 

Whole years are stuck on a day

Breathing in the dust of bodies

That blow in the wind.

 

You walk into a clearing

Ten yards in diameter

Filled with small pink flowers.

 

It is somewhere like a woman

Who in a past life

Was a starving man.

 

The sun rises in the north.

We live as if the world were dead

& this reality the only one that exists.

 

 

13 September 2002

 

 

[Published in Quien Sabe Mountain:

Poems 1998-2004. © 2004 by Jim Cohn.]