A cosmos sailed on breezeahead
a warm rectangle of winter sun with shadow window bars lies across brown earth.
There is a distant patter of a child's feet wandering, stumbling hiding his tiny feet in sand, now time has stooped down to gaze.
A mansarovar of stilled breth
fragrances of past lives
When the soul opened, light-lighter the moment became, drawn to where no word survives-Like a cosmos on a breeze.