A strange figure sits in a lake that holds eternity.
Water, a purification of the image.
Fire from above that seeks to consume all oxygen.
Marbled body that I want to become.
A molding of clay, maybe it could never become anything.
A centipede scurries to find warmth in the darkness.
I stuff cherry blossoms in my pocket so I can find my way.
It’s only by becoming the silkworm I will expectorate the royal garments.
While I sit here like an archetype of a man unfulfilled.
All I have to do is meditate.
And I’ll fall into the chaos
So I can forever try to recreate that statue
The one that unfolds in my mind.
(c) A.R. Minhas 2020