The aerial ink is dank
Like a matrilineal sky
Seer of the grove-heart
And a tragicomedy bass line
In murmurs of the syruping
Like the deer of the deer
And the helium feathers
Awash in laughter and insights
The dhatu is a forest
It is xeroxed by my comrades
A brilliance of spiralings
And glyphs that wade with me
My robes in the plasticked heavens
Aimless like the coriander
The surgery of the lotus
Anise seeds in the air
Each symbol is bifurcated
Like a floating canopy
And the sutras of a bird
In an infinity of tablas
be universal 