Thoughts of Dublin In Your Eyes

. . .and I have this sinister scrap paper in mind when suddenly I realize I miss the damp streets of Dublin filling with soft lullabies beneath the drunken waking sun.

To see that sunlight that stirs the earth from its star-blue sleep in your eyes--a mirror forever reflecting the living universe revolving, a pool of moonlit dew, the street lights of O'Connell, the quiet outside the post office before the storm blew through, the faint feel of the West, of Connamera brushing the face in the breeze--an epitaph to all my yesterdays & a wide-eyed embrace to all my tomorrows spent outside the steel box of time, inside the Buddha-mind. To see it all with you!