In Search of the Final

 
When the sun grows weary at the horizon's edge
it comes to stand in silence,
on the path where stars gather in evening's longing,
on the path where someone—
rising from ablution at the call to prayer
enters the mosque courtyard, and
carrying the hidden ache of immersion
sits alone, alone.


Following that same path
I sit apart, severed
from life, far away.
The birth-dream within me
drifts in search of some other being,
floating away...
distant, ever more distant...seeking the ultimate.