Music for Buses - IV

I had asked the sun

What had occurred

Between the sky

And the fog-

He said he did not know

And beckoned to the trees

To come.

I asked them where

I could immolate myself

On the altar

Of your light-

I wanted to be consumed wholly

And be blown away

By the four winds-

Lifting me up, this pain of longing

Coming like the train

In the morning.

I asked the moon if

She knew the place

Where life would shower

Petals of bliss-

She said she would have

To ponder the mystery-

In the court of the stars

She lies luminous

And pensive.

And then I asked your eyes

If I could die

Of forgetfulness and love-

In that lonely room

Attached to the cold,

They told me

To be still-

To rejoice and not weep-

The day is still far away

And birdsong has yet to

Seep through the window.