The heartbeat slowed to match the steps
Of a penniless man who used to sit
Like buddha.
Not quite waiting.
But watching, while Time and Space
Lace this transparent mandala in place.
And when he knew with Final's certainty
The point at which to break
He had long seen his fault as his burden,
And retired his hope of forgiveness.
While I'll still find my eyes dashing hurdling moments
Between customers and emails and faxes
Looking to witness what never came.
Salvage me, relief of night!
That I get to become reused
Before I even become a waste.
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