Around The Bodhi Tree, Verses of A Mirror


Part one of me, myself, remembers past intention.

I receive what I am, and I sow of what is given.
Organically speaking, I shall ramble on through;
pardon my bluntness, but the truth is not suddenly new.
Patterns of my speech mixed with the use of specific conjunctions–
Hell! If it were 1942, I’d reap a paragraph of repercussions!
Sentenced to writing a dialogue with no lines,
the text we speak in conversation reflects the subtext of our daily lives.