Again it happens in my sleep.
A core of wakefulness opens.
But I have ways of ignoring that.
You say, How long will you beg from others,
when there are things born of you
that emperors want?
Why waste time in meanness?
Who else can say what you say to me?
If I could repeat it, people passing by
would be enlightened and go free.
You are an ocean in my chest
where everyone changes places,
believer-unbeliever, cynic-lover,
dervish-king.
Last night you came to my sleep
asking, How are you?
Locked out of life, waiting, weeping.
