I want
a fragment of peace, the kind of peace
that can give birth to deep love.
I want
the beckoning hand
of poisonous death
to be shattered, defeated
in fierce explosions
upon uneven ground,
and to hide away.
In silent nights
I prefer
the jubilant chorus
of sixteen-year-old laughter
to Urvashi's weeping.
Over intoxicating music
I love only
the piano's sustained melody,
guided purely
from the heart's corner.
Finally, leaving human habitation,
I want to walk away
to some deep forest
of this wounded world, or
to golden mountain peaks, where
my hurt heart will find
pure peace in abundance.